Statalia
by Gormanbros
Summary: A series focusing on America's 50 "children" and their long confusing and ridiculous relationships together from their births all the way to today. Also, Canada's 13 "children" and their long confusing and ridiculous relationships together also make an appearance too. I've made a personality test for you to take on my states. It's located on my profile page.
1. Chapter 1: Revolution?

_Well, guys, Gormanbros here… Those of you who read my Smash Bros. story or the collab didn't expect something like this from me, did you? Haha. Well, I'm very sorry for the extreme break from When They Left, and I will post the long awaited Chapter 10 soon. Until then, here's something that can be traced back to my close friend, AnonymousPride. She's the one who got me into Hetalia in the first place… Well, that's about it I guess. States are mine, any countries or references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's._

CHAPTER 1: Revolution?

The tiny, lower counties known as Delaware wishes to be independent from Britain. Delaware is a shorter, bespectacled colony with a knack for business. He is heading up the road to meet up with his loud and more irritable brother, Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania is a taller, slightly stocky colony wearing a coal-gray jacket and scarf and perpetually is holding a shovel.

Delaware steps up to the door of Pennsylvania's house and knocks twice before calling out. "Pennsylvania? Are you there? Hello! Come on out!"

Delaware's brother quickly opens the door, a look of irritation on his face. "Quiet down! You're about dumb, you know. The regulars, they could be watching us! Quite sure they are still angry about what Massachusetts did with their tea. Come on inside to my parlor, you jagoff."

Delaware looks at his shoes and walks in. _Sometimes I have a really hard time understanding what Pennsylvania says… He seems to be pretty influenced by Germany sometimes… Is it Germany's speech style? Well, whatever it is, he talks funny._

"What? Delaware? What is wrong? Why are you just staring downwards?"

"Brother, I am considering something. What if we declare independence from Britain?"

"Independence… Hm… Would it be possible, though? Nobody has ever done this before. About unlikely we could get the forces needed too. If we get the help of the other colonies though…"

"We could challenge Britain!"

"It's possible, yes. So, Lower Counties. Where do you suggest we go first?"

"Good business strategy time… Hm… It would be most efficient to get everyone together in a meeting."

"Worth a try."

After making a few rounds to some other neighbors, who spread the word to the rest, 13 of the Colonies all gathered together in Pennsylvania's large parlor room in his house in Philadelphia.

After anyone was either seated or quieted down, Pennsylvania stood up from his large chair to speak out to his 11 siblings. Virginia wasn't there yet for whatever reason… "I am guessing all of youse are wondering why I call you here. I personally have come up with the plan that all of us will rebel against Britain! Who's with me?"

"We getting cash for this?" asked New York, always up for making a quick buck. New York is an upbeat bespectacled colony with messy black hair, a thin beard and has his pigeon, Long Island, perched on his shoulder.

" You want to be paid for declaring independence?" asked Pennsylvania.

"Ey! A man's gotta have something to live by, am I right?"

"New York. Shaddup! Down here on the wooder, we no expect to get the dough for tings like this! No respect to Penny for this. No respect at all," called out New Jersey. New Jersey is an orange tanned colony with jet black hair and a towel flung across his shoulder. He's not a fan of wearing any shirt but his tank top. He claims to be a member of the Mafia.

"New Jersey," quietly says Pennsylvania.

"No. Just call me Jersey. I ain't new."

"Well, you kind of are…Do you own a real shirt?"

"Besides my tank top? Yea. Not my style though."

"Pardon my interrupting, but where is Virginia?" asks Connecticut.Connecticut is an intellectual, wearing a business suit and always seeming to read books on a huge variety of subjects. He takes all credit for the Constitution.

"Please. It is far much better without her. Now to lose New Jersey…."Rhode Island says, muttering the last sentence about the Garden State. Rhode Island is a short, independent-minded colony. His temper is also…short… He is against smoking and drinking, and doesn't like his occasionally oppressive older brother, Massachusetts.

"What's that, shortie?" responded New Jersey, always up for a fight.

"I am not short! I am just not very tall."

"Everybody, this is my idea, not Penn's." said Delaware, sitting up in his chair.

"Wouldn't be the first time he stole an idea from one of us…" Connecticut muttered, scoffing.

" I do not steal! Now, youse have been about off topic! Back to the Revolution!"

"You guys, this could be fun! Just the few of us, all on our own, against the whole wide world!" shouted out North Carolina. North Carolina is a jovial colony, who loves wearing her long, wavy auburn hair under a dark red fedora. She loves riding her horse-drawn carriage but is just dying to get to race in a horseless carriage…

"Yes… Let us all listen to the hillbilly southern girl with the unsanitary towns and plantations on how to face sophisticated issues," stated Rhode Island, sneering.

"Ey, now come on, Rhode Island, it's not cool to mess with NC, kay?" said New York.

"Rhody. I have an idea. Why don't yeh come on back to ole Massachusetts and make us one great Bay Colony," asked Massachusetts. Massachusetts is an outspoken colony with distinctive hair, with a flip upward, which represents Cape Cod. He wears a bright blue polo with khakis and has a strong Boston accent, which other colonies tend to make fun of.

"Never! You and your Puritan ways… Humph… At least I don't kick out people just because they don't want to be slaves to your Pilgrim institution…"

"Well, y'all better stop the southern backlash! Without us, y'all ain't have none of the cotton!" called out Georgia, bored with the talk about religion in New England. Georgia is a self-styled colony with a strong Deep South accent. She wears a long, conservative pink dress and has a passion for business, eating peaches and drinking Coke.

"She's got a point, guys. Y'all head cryin' back to England in a fortnight without the backbone of Georgia, Northie, Virginia and me," stated South Carolina. South Carolina is the twin sister of North Carolina, and is a quirky colony. She has an odd appearance, wearing a showy expensive dress with sunglasses and a Palmetto-adorned ball cap.

"Yeah, yeah. Without the girls we'd fail instantly… Whatever," quietly complained Delaware.

"Hey! What about me! I'm a southern girl, too!" called out Maryland.Maryland is a quieter colony who loves fishing for crabs. She tends to get divided on issues and gets divided between her neighbors, Virginia and Pennsylvania.

"Are you?" asked South Carolina, hoping she would say south.

Actually, that's a good question. Whose are you, Maryland? North or South?" asked Pennsylvania, hoping she would say north.

Maryland- Both. And we're not supposed to argue about this for another like 60 years, guys…"

At that moment, Virginia pops in the door, not even bothering to knock. "I'm here! With cigars! Who wants one? Wow. Nice house, Penn! Love it! It's almost as beautiful as mine!" Virginia is a tall colony with long, flowing black hair. She tends to exaggerate the fact that she was born first. (She forgets about her older, deceased brother, Roanoke Colony, quite often.) She secretly has a little brother named West Virginia, who she keeps hidden from knowledge of the other colonies.

To her question, Delaware's hand immediately shoots up. "Me! Me! Me! I'll have cigars! Yes! About time!"

"You smoke and drink?! You awful soul, Delaware!" Rhode Island muttered, disgusted.

"Hypocrite…" murmured Massachusetts.

Hey, New Hampshire. You've been awfully quiet, you know," said New York, looking over at the brown haired guy sitting next to him.

"Well, sorry, friend! I'm writing the history of British control over us now."New Hampshire is a quiet, reserved colony. He keeps to himself unless he needs to. He loves nothing more than writing and reading. Except maybe polishing granite.

"Are y'all kiddin' me, Hampy? We all are gonna break from Britain, and you are writing bout them?" asks a shocked North Carolina.

"Wait! Everyone, hold up! Its tea time!" shouts out Massachusetts. Connecticut, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts all shut up and pull out their teacups and begin drinking.

"You've got to be kidding me," says an irritated Georgia.

Pennsylvania facepalms. _Why do I even bother…? These people… are impossible to work with… Well, I have to do something. _"I am ending this meeting, jagoffs. Okay? So we are going to declare war, and we will win." He gives a piece of parchment to Maryland, who knows where their 'father' is. "Maryland, go give this letter to America. Now, everyone leave my parlor at once!" They all leave, except for Delaware.

"Hey, Pennsylvania?"

"Yes?"

"This whole meeting was just to make them feel like they were important, wasn't it?"

"Yes. Of course it was."

TO BE CONTINUED…

STATE BIO #1

NEW YORK

Human Name: Mario Rockefeller

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Brown

Personality Traits: Happy, leader-like, witty, slightly cocky, and self focused

Pet: His "beloved" pigeon, Long Island.

Birthday: July 26th

Original parent: Netherlands

Previous bosses: Netherlands, Britain.

Closest friends: Pennsylvania, Connecticut. New Jersey, debatably

Enemies: Massachusetts (his absolute rival), Georgia, Rhode Island. New Jersey, debatably

Significant accessories: His little NY flag, and his Statue of Liberty tie.

Hobbies: Eating cheesecake and bagels. Singing musicals, running the NY Stock Exchange, taking ladies to Niagara

Favorite Music Genres: Punk rock, hip hop, rap, salsa, rock, jazz

Favorite TV Show: Seinfeld

Government Department: Department of Commerce


	2. Chapter 2: Former Partners

_Well, guys, Gormanbros here again. States are mine, any countries or references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. _

CHAPTER 2: Former Partners

It's the year 1777. The western half of New Hampshire, called Vermont, wishes to leave New Hampshire and become its own country. New Hampshire is sitting on a bench, reading a history book on the Hundred-Years War, having conflict on his mind due to the revolution underway as he reads. _I wonder how many years this war will take… Poor Massachusetts, New York and Virginia seem to be getting beat up a lot…_

Vermont walks up to New Hampshire, sits down next to him and crosses his legs. "Bonjour, New Hampshire." Vermont is a flamboyant group of counties. He has longer, blond hair and wears unusual old suits. He loves maple syrup and speaking French.

"Good day, West?"

" Non. I wish to divorce you."

"Divorce? What? We were never married! You're just half of me!"

"Our relationship was beau, but alas, twas doomed to failure, my partner."

"What do you mean relationship? We are just two gentlemen friends living in the same house… Oh…"

"Au revoir, my former partner." He says as he stands up, fixes his hair, and walks away. Thus began the life of the Vermont Republic. A year later, New Hampshire began realizing just how much he misses Vermont.

"I do not miss him!" New Hampshire cries out indignantly.

"Are you positive? You sound as if you do miss him." Connecticut asks.

"Friend, why do you speak like that?" asks New Hampshire.

"Alas, I am quite substantially knowledgeable and literate. I do not ensue in petty affairs such as the affair which plagues you, my northern ally."

"Don't you have tea to go drink?"

"Please… Do… Not… Mention, under… Any… Circumstance… The… tea." Connecticut speaks, voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes begin twitching.

"Okay then… Crazy."

"Just leave, foolish acquaintance! Thou is no longer within the open arms of welcome spirit allowed anywhere ten miles from my humble abode here in Hartford!"

"Fine…"

On the horse ride home, New Hampshire stops by New York's territory. He spots the charismatic former colony target practicing on a wooden post with a painting of Britain's face stapled onto it.

"Good day, New York?"

"How's it goin' man? Been a while."

"Oh, quite fine. I have been reading up on historical war strategies used by European powers."

"Not bad, bro. Britain has a whole world o' pain coming for him for capturing Long Island. Poor little guy."

"My humble apologies."

"I bet we can do dis. Ya know, win the war?"

"Maybe… Home field advantage."

"Yeah. So, bro. You and Vermont Republic? Glad you broke apart. Gave me the creeps."

"We weren't romantically involved. Just two gentlemen friends living in the same house… Again! No matter how many times I say that, it still sounds wrong…"

"Man, dat ain't good. You still want to live with 'Monty?"

"Er…No! I don't!"

"Seriously creepy man. For real." New York says, staring at New Hampshire weirdly.

New Hampshire walks away quietly, thinking about Vermont. _Are you kidding me, me? You don't want to live with Vermont anymore! I mean, he was creepy! And weird. And… thoughtful. And funny. And the nicest guy a colony could ask for… Oh god! No, New Hampshire! What is wrong with me?! _

XXXX

New Hampshire knocks on the door of Vermont's just completed second house, now in a town in Vermont called Windsor.

"Bonjour, my former partner… What do you want?"

"Okay… I'm sorry, I guess. Please come back with me. Please?"

"Non! I am sick of vous, New Hampshire! Leave, at once!"

"But…"

"Non!"

New Hampshire walks outside, cursing his luck and sees New York standing there.

"Ya fool. Heh. Come on. Let's have a feast at my place in the City."

"…Thank you kindly for the offer, but I must pass."

"But we were going to have a feast of my favorite foods!

"I'm sick of bagels, corndogs and apples, friend."

"Well, I isn't!" New York pulls out a kabob with a bagel, apple and corndog on it from his pocket. "Oh well, more for me."

New Hampshire walks away, stuffing his hands deep into his pocket._ Maybe someday, Vermont will join the thirteen of us as the 14__th__ United State._

Meanwhile, back in Windsor, Vermont Republic looks out the window and watches a bird land on a tree. _Maybe someday, New Hampshire will give up and join me as the eastern counties of Vermont. Heh. Payback_

XXXX

Meanwhile, in Pennsylvania's homeland, soldiers are gathering in the woods for shelter. The Keystone State walks up and speaks to a young member of Washington's Army. "Hello, gentlemen. Where is your general?"

"I don't know, four eyes."

"The name's Pennsylvania, and you are camping within my state."

"I don't care."

"You know what? I hope the lot of you have an about awful winter. Jagoffs."

They did. The camp at Valley Forge killed many from coldness, disease and hunger.

That next spring, Pennsylvania walks out the distance back over to the camp from his home. He steps up to the same soldier. "Hello, again. Have a nice winter?"

" Screw you, Pennsylvania."

"You are welcome."

Suddenly a voice from behind Pennsylvania speaks up

"Very interesting, boy! I vish for you and your allies to win the war, so that limey sucker weakens. Then awesome me can take him over! So in short, I, Prussia, can and will help you." Prussia calls out, a wicked smile emerging on his face.

TO BE CONTINUED…

STATE BIO #2

PENNSYLVANIA

Human Name: Harry Penn Franklin

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Eye Color: Blue

Personality Traits: Serious, straight to the point, and confident, gets things done and gets them done quickly

Pet: Groundhog, Phil

Birthday: December 12rd

Original parent: Britain

Previous bosses: Britain

Closest friends: Virginia, Ohio, New York

Enemies: Texas, Florida

Significant accessories: His shovel

Hobbies: Mining, producing steel, being a historian, inventing things, shunning, secret love of chocolate

Favorite Music Genres: Soul, polka, classic religious music

Favorite TV Show: The Office

Government Department: Department of the Treasury


	3. Chapter 3: Preparing for Battle

_Well, guys, Gormanbros here for the third time. Any comments or critiques are welcome. States are mine, any countries or references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's._

CHAPTER 3: Preparing for Battle

It is the year 1778. In Pennsylvania's home region, he is confronted by the newly arrived Prussia, who wants to help train Pennsylvania and his siblings.

"Where is your father? He must not keep one as awesome as me waiting!"

"Probably with New York still. He spends most of his time up there, it seems."

Suddenly, from up on a hill, America calls down at the two. "Looking for me, dudes?! I was just taking care of some stuff! Totally just hero business, you guys." He looks over at who is standing next to Pennsylvania and is shocked. _What is he doing here? Isn't he busy like taking over all of Europe?_ "Hey, Prussia, man! What are you doing here?"

"You need my help, obviously. I mean, I am the great and awesome Prussia! I know you want it!"

"No, man! Get out of here! I can fight this war all by myself!"

"Then why is Francey here?"

"What do you mean, France is here? Dude, are you like hallucinating?" from behind America, France steps up and places his arm on America's shoulder and smirks.

"Hon hon hon hon hon. I'm right here. I have been here for a while, watching you.

"Gah! Get away from me, you weirdo! God! You're such a creep!"

"But I am helping you, moi young new friend. You can not beat Britain without moi."

"Fine… you can stay, France… But I'm making sure you stay like 20 feet away from me at all times."

"Feet? How many metres is zat?"

"Huh? Meters? Hah. Who even uses that crap?"

"Ah! Silly child. Everybody but you."

"Well, everybody should do what I do! I mean, I am the hero!"

France thinks to himself. _Silly beautiful little child. If only he realized… Ah well. His plan will fail within weeks, anyways. Democracies never work._

Prussia loudly speaks up. "HELLO! AWESOME ONE SPEAKING HERE, LOSERS! HOW DARE YOU TWO LEAVE ME OUT OF ZIS CONVERSATION?"

"Just go away, man. I've got this." America responds, not admitting to the fact that he forgot Prussia was there.

"America, let us find you a new, beautiful uniform! I can make it for you! Hon hon hon."

"Gah! No!"

The two of them leave, and Prussia, infuriated, begins stomping the ground in fury. This tantrum disturbed Pennsylvania, who grew up believing that Prussia was this big, strong, fearless empire. Not someone who would lose it if a young nobody like America still was refused his training offer. Suddenly, Prussia immediately stopped, and turned to face Pennsylvania.

"You. Colony. I vill help you. Your papa vont find out. Or he vill. After I train you, however. Hehehehehe.

After much deliberation, Pennsylvania submits to the creepy man. "…Okay. I'll let you train me. You better make me about strong, though."

"Oh, you vill be able to take down anybody. Besides the great and awesome Prussia, of course."

It's the month of October, in the year 1781. The Revolutionary War is coming to a close. America, his children, and his two unwanted allies prepare to meet for the final standoff in Yorktown. Currently, America is with Rhode Island, speaking with France. The European superpower is going to be sailing his fleet to Yorktown, while America will be traveling by land.

"So, Francey. I'll meet you there?"

"Oui. Good luck."

France climbs on board and commands his similarly fashionably dressed troops to set sail.

"Fly, Pierre! Onward, to victory!" His tiny, annoying white bird flutters forward, "chirpchirpchirpchirpchirping " away, easily pointing out to everyone in the continent (or it seemed like it to America) that France was on the move.

XXXX

Meanwhile, in North Carolina's territory, Britain rides north on his horse to Yorktown. He has full intentions on controlling the entire Virginia colony, as he does parts of others. In a carriage behind him are his POW's, North Carolina and Long Island.

"Dontcha worry, little chirpy. I'm sure our good ole buddies are planning on saving us right now. Want a smoke?" She offers him a cigar. He just stares back, as if trying to say _'Seriously? I am a pigeon. A little tiny freaking pigeon. Are you really expecting me to smoke a cigar?'_

_XXXX_

America and Rhode Island move south along the coast. Along the way, Connecticut decides to join them in Hartford. The trio reaches Dobbs Ferry, where New York steps up, sunglasses on, rifles in both hands, magazine on, and a cigar in mouth. He has a picture of Long Island's face stitched onto his jacket.

"Who else is ready to kick some British ass? Eh? Big mistake messin' with New York."

America suddenly begins laughing. "Dude! You are my favorite son, New York. I love you, child!" He hops off his horse, and embraces New York.

"Thanks, pa. I'll make ya proud."

New Jersey walks up, with only one rifle, takes one glance at New York and glares. _Come on! Seriously?_, he thinks to himself. _Yankee-boy always manages to upstage me… Why?_

Later on, Prussia and Pennsylvania both pull up in pitch black stallions.

"Make way for me, ze awesome one!" Shouts out Prussia.

"Prussia… Pennsylvania! Hey, man! How's my boy?"

"Pops. I vish to move onvard. No time for idle chitchat.

"Huh? What happened, man?"

"I have become…. Truly awesome."

America looks onward in true terror as Prussia smirks. "Noooo!"

XXXX

Four days later, in Yorktown, a young man walks into Britain's room.

"Yes, what is it, Canada?"

"Well, I was wondering, can I help fight too?"

"Hah hah hah! That would be a bad idea. You would fail at fighting your brother. Now please sit down and enjoy some nice, hot tea and a scone or two."

"But, I don't want tea and scones! I want pancakes!"

"No! No pancakes! You had them yesterday! I'm not losing you too! I'm still in charge!"

"Yes, Mr. Britain, sir."

"Hmm…"

XXXX

Meanwhile, outside the defenses of Yorktown, America, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Prussia, Delaware, Maryland and Virginia wait outside and prepare for France's sign to attack. Honestly, no one knows what to expect. I mean, this is France. Anything could happen. Suddenly, huge screens come out of the ground around Yorktown. They begin blaring out the French national anthem.

"Huh?" America wonders.

Suddenly, France's face appears on screen. "Bonjour, Britain. Como se va? Hon hon hon hon hon hon hon hon hon…" The laughing continues.

"The bloody hell is that?" Britain shouts out as he sees the screen. He turns around to see America and his army charging from one side, and the French ships approaching from the other.

"Quick, attack!" Britain shouts out. Chaos ensues.

TO BE CONTINUED…

STATE BIO #3

NEW JERSEY

Human Name: Antonio (A Money) Stockton

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Brown

Personality Traits: Charismatic, slightly greedy and shady

Pet: His little New Jersey Devil

Birthday: December 18th

Original parent: Britain

Previous bosses: Britain

Closest friends: New York, Virginia

Enemies: Illinois, New York, Rhode Island, Georgia

Significant accessories: None

Hobbies: Gambling, being a gangster, growing tomatoes, working out

Favorite Music Genres: Punk, hip hop, Sinatra

Favorite TV Show: The Sopranos

Government Department: Federal Housing Administration


	4. Chapter 4: Independence

_Well, guys, Gormanbros here, welcoming you back. Any comments or critiques are welcome. States are mine, any countries or references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. I think I should make something known with this chapter. This is the last chapter before I move forward to modern day. The reason I'm doing Statalia this way is so that there's more flexibility in the stories I can tell, and I won't have to feel like I need to include everything possible in an era before moving onto the next. Well, in saying that, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks for reading!_

CHAPTER 4: Independence

It is October 1781. The end of the American Revolution. America, several of his children, and Prussia stood by quietly outside the British-occupied settlement of Yorktown. They anxiously awaited France's attack signal. Inside the settlement, a stressed out and highly irritated Britain believes that America might attack him in the dead of night. Because of this, he hasn't gotten sleep in like four to five days. He's really becoming a thorn in Canada's side.

France, ever the absurd, installed giant screens around the village showing clips of him laughing with his anthem blaring out of the speakers. This caught Britain extremely off guard. He hadn't seen anything so ridiculous since how his fellow European nations had reacted during the Bubonic Plague. The equally confused colonies, their father, and their troops (and the great and awesome Prussia, of course) charged forward to meet Britain and his army, as did France and his troops. Britain shouted out to his loyal redcoats, "Quick, attack!"

Chaos ensues Yorktown. French navy blue, British red, and American blue / brown intermingle and entangle, making the battle seem to be a blur to those watching from afar. New York charged forward, tank-like, in a way. His pigeon, Long Island, was being held captive alongside North Carolina here in the port town.

"A'ight, regs. Where is my bird?!" an infuriated New York bellowed out at a group of redcoat soldiers.

"I don't know, Yank!" responded one of the redcoats.

"Yeah! Be gone, Yankee!"

"Yankee, eh? I like that name. Makes me feel… Like I can win anything, hit back anything thrown at me and get it launched straight into the sky! It'll make you run straight home to ole Britty!"

XXXX

France had hopped off his boat and joined Rhode Island and New Jersey in fighting a dozen redcoats. Connecticut was behind a barrel taking notes of what he saw for whatever reason. Soon, 5 of the redcoats ran out of ammunition, cursing their luck. New Jersey stepped up grinning and shot the 4 of them back to back, as Connecticut watched, horrified.

The entry states as follows: _Orange-face quickly and viciously fired his musket into the red-covered chests of four doomed soldiers. The dark silver bullets streaming out of the vile barrels… Orange-face's merciless grin remains terrifically engrained into my mental state. I solemnly wish he would fall to the remainder of the British army. He is quite honestly a freaking weirdo…_~Conn. Oct. 1781, Yorktown, Va.

XXXX

Meanwhile, as Britain fights in the street down below, Canada quietly watches the chaos as it unfolds down below.

Canada sighs. "I bet that if Mr. Britain had let me fight today, he would win for sure…"

Outside the house, Delaware and Maryland look up at the window.

"Hey, Maryland?"

"Yes, Delly?

"Why is dad up there behind the window watching us? And why is he also over there fighting a redcoat?"

"I… I don't know. That's a good question…"

Pennsylvania and Virginia were standing back to back fighting off the redcoats surrounding them.

"Hey, V."

"Since when do you call me V?"

"Since when do you question me, woman?"

"What is wrong with you?"

"I'm just….Awesome?"

"No. Three o'clock."

"Shut it. Sniper on balcony."

"What happened to Mr. No-nonsense?"

"Prussia happened."

As the two continued arguing and shooting down their enemies, Prussia came up to the town in a tank being pulled by a single small pony. He wore a look of pure self-confidence and gloating as he moved down the main thoroughfare shooting down the redcoats.

"Haha! Bow down before me, for I am awesome! No one can stop me now!"

Britain and America stopped threatening each other and look over at the incoming Prussia.

"How are you doing that?!"

"Dude, what're you doing?!"

"Suck it, losers! I am awesome!" Prussia then shot a cannonball straight at a shop near where Canada was watching and blew it up. He watched, grinning creepily as people ran from their homes, screaming. America looked almost irritated, if that was in any way possible for him.

"Hey, Prussia! What do you think you're doing, man?"

"Uh, I think it's pretty obvious."

"No killing the people! Only Britain's guys!"

"Are you saying that my soldiers aren't people?!"

"Maybe like a different species of people! Ones without taste buds."

"You take that back!"

"Make me, limey jerk!"

The former 'brothers' pull out their guns as they face off against each other, their armies watching. They both ready their guns and prepare to fire. It begins raining. For what felt like an eternity, they stood glaring at each other. Lightning strikes.

"Hey, Britain! All I want is my freedom! I'm no longer a child, nor your little brother! From now on, consider me independent!"

They continued glare at each other for a moment, neither backing down. Then, suddenly, Britain charges forward towards America. As Britain neared America, his own musket collided with America's causing the latter's to fly out of America's arms.

"I won't allow it! You idiot! Why can't you follow anything through to the end?" Britain asked.

At that moment, Pennsylvania called out to his siblings and the other rebel soldiers, "Ready! Aim!"

They meet each other's eyes, and Britain lowers his weapon.

"There's no way I can shoot you… I can't." He mutters, dropping his gun, falling to his knees, and covering his face in sorrow. He shakes as he begins to sob. "Why? Damn it, why?! It's not fair!"

America looks down at him sadly, "You know why." He remembers back when, as a small child, Britain reached out to him, holding out his hand, smiling. He remembers laughing, then taking Britain's hand. "What happened? I remember when you were great."

XXXX

America and his 13 children all claimed independence that day. New York got his BFF Long Island back. Virginia, Delaware and Maryland all put Pennsylvania in rehab, and he's recovered his former self. France quickly left and immediately got into another argument with Britain minutes after returning home. Prussia left soon as well, after irritating America a little more and never came back to the Western Hemisphere. Canada made a quick exit back north, and even though in perfect sight of New York, remained unseen and unknown. The new states all expanded their territory to the Mississippi River.

XXXX

America couldn't decide on where to make his capital city. He decided (and regretted) inviting states over and making them give reasons on why the capital should be in their home region.

First was Massachusetts. "Pops. We got Cape Cahd heah. Yeh gotta love Cape Cahd."

"What? Lose the crazy accent man!"

New York.

"I'm your favorite kid!"

"New York, dude. I don't pick favorites!"

New Jersey.

"I'm your favorite son, eh?"

"No. New York is. Next!"

"What?!"

"Next!"

Delaware.

"Well, pa, I decided to escape from Britty first! Gotta have some credit, right?"

"Maybe. But there's nothing special about you."

Georgia.

"Daddy, I am a strong willed woman and am far more reasonable and qualified than the simple minded kiddies north o' me."

"Hey, aren't you the one who Britain sent all his criminals to?"

"…..Yes…."

South Carolina.

"I'll love you forever."

"No you won't."

Connecticut.

"Well, father. I have assessed the situation, and if you will decide with me, there will be nothing but positive outcomes…. Father! Are you sleeping when I'm talking to you?!"

"Hah! Uh… Not anymore!"

New Hampshire.

"Friend. Please?"

"Why would I ever choose you, man? Haha!"

"Er…"

Pennsylvania.

"I am better now. No more awesome me. I'm the strongest willed state. Also, thanks for living in my city of Philadelphia for now."

"Been there, done that. Philly's boring! Next!"

"Aw…"

Rhode Island didn't walk into the room. He said he knew he'd lose anyways.

North Carolina.

"Pleeeaaassseeee?"

"I liked Roanoke better."

"Meeeaaaannnn!"

"Wow, you're kinda funny!"

Maryland.

"Papa, I am centrally located, and have delicious crabs if you want them. Also, Baltimore has forts to protect you."

"Maybe. We'll see. Helps that you're the only one to actually offer food."

"Yay."

Virginia.

"Kay. Let's cut to the chase. I have the best leaders, the best forts, I was where you gained freedom, and I am by far the most attractive state. I mean, I'm hot. You can't deny that. Haha."

"Yeah…. Wait. You're my daughter. And kinda freaking me out…"

America stepped out of the room and looked at his 13 kids. He takes a deep breath, "I have decided to put the capital city between Maryland and Virginia. That way I get a nice view (hehe) and good food!" He points to New York. "Oh yeah. Sorry, man! You're still my favorite!"

STATE BIO #4

VIRGINIA

Human Name: Alexandria (Lexi) Jefferson

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Hazel

Personality Traits: Happy, slightly manipulative, confusing to understand, easily offended

Pet: Her foxhound, William

Birthday: June 25th

Original parent: Britain

Previous bosses: Britain, Confederacy

Closest friends: Pennsylvania, North Carolina, Maryland, D.C.

Enemies: West Virginia, Delaware

Significant accessories: Her pentagon-shaped earrings

Hobbies: Drinking wine, eating ham, making war strategies, writing stories, studying history

Favorite Music Genres: Piedmont Blues, folk, rock and roll

Favorite TV Show: Homeland

Government Department: United States Army


	5. Chapter 5: Meeting of the States

_Well, guys, Gormanbros here, welcoming you back. Any comments critiques, or reviews are very welcome. States are mine, any countries or references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. Thanks for reading!_

CHAPTER 5: Meeting of the States

In the stretch of time between the 18th and 21st century, America had grown to become a world power, an unrivaled country stretching from the Arctic Circle to the desert bordering Mexico. America's 13 kids now stand alongside 37 others. As has become tradition, all 50 of them meet up together every so often, and try to solve the problems they face. Today, the states are all sitting in a large circle shaped desk and are going over the country's current main problems. This year, Delaware and Ohio have been chosen to preside over the states. And yes, they are so awfully disagreeable that there needs to be two people in charge of them.

Delaware stands up and begins speaking. "H... Hello, everybody!"

The states just sort of droned a forced sounding 'Hello, Delaware…' at that.

"Hehe. Hi to all of you too. So, um… Nice weather we've been having here, huh?" To that, all of them just sat there. Connecticut began reading, Arkansas began plucking his fiddle, California put on her headphones, and North Dakota left, as he saw a bird fly by outside.

"Oh for god's sake, Delaware. This is ridiculous!" called out Ohio, aggravated at his partner getting off topic.

"Hey! Don't use that word!" shouted out the ultra-religious Alabama.

"What word? Ridiculous?" Oregon responded, jokingly. She loved making fun of the southern states, for whatever reason.

"You're not worth my time, hippie." Retorted Alabama.

"Hippie?! Are you joking? Shut up."

"After you."

"You two both, please just shut up!" shouted Montana. "All of you can be so whiny!"

"Big Sky Guy, you're an American. We argue all the time!" Iowa said to Montana.

"Damn straight." muttered West Virginia.

While all this was going on, New York was humming show tunes as usual when he had a huge yawn. He looked around and saw a young woman standing by the door. He raises his hand and flags her over.

"Yes, New York? What do you need?"

"Woah! How d'you know my name? 'Whatevs, just get me some coffee! Thanks!

"Get you coffee? Wha? Who…? Who do you think I am?! Your maid?"

"I dunno, probably."

"I am the District of Columbia, you fool! Show me some respect! I am not a maid! Nor shall I serve you! All of you states treat me with so much disrespect! As if I'm somehow less important than you!"

"…But you are… You are not a state, but a federal district…" muttered Connecticut, not looking up from his book.

"Gah! This is ridiculous! I'm super important too!"

"I show you respect." Virginia consoles D.C., smiling.

"Which is why you stole half my territory a while ago."

"Er… Yeah… Bout that… Oh! Is it that time already?!" Virginia loudly exclaimed, looking at the clock. She quickly stood up, and ran out the door. West Virginia laughed, loving any time that his annoying older sister gets in a tough position.

"So… Coffee?" New York asks. To that, D.C. just leaves as well.

"So, guys. How bout we begin the work talk. So… What topics do we have? Lets see here…" Ohio sits back down and starts going through the papers he and Delaware have to work on. "We've got Cut, Cap and Balance… and SOPA… oh yeah. There's abortion too."

"Good god… Do we have any ideas that don't suck? I mean, come on!" Massachusetts asked, snickering. He, and about half his other siblings, all dislike the conservative ideas being put in by the other half of his siblings.

"These ideas don't suck, shamrock. What does, is attitudes like yours." Tennessee calmly stated, arms resting on his favorite guitar, which he calls Nashville.

"C'mon, guys. We don't need a political talk, huh? Can't we all just get along like the people of my fair state do? Our legislature's bipartisan." Nebraska stated, overplaying her self stated 'perfectness' as usual. She always considers herself to be the best business leader out of all her siblings, which always bugs New York, Delaware, Georgia and Connecticut, who all also claim that same title…

"Sweetie… Only at the state level… That's hardly true here in the national level. Now, on the other hand, I'm a grand politician." Georgia sweetly stated, using her 'sweetheart' mode.

"Yeah, yeah. We all know you're Ms. Perfect," mocks New Jersey.

"You wanna go, little Guido bastard?" she retorted, moving into her 'vixen' mode. At that, New Jersey, New York and Rhode Island, (all Italian Americans) all look horrified.

"Hey, Georgia! Cut it out! That was just cruel!" Utah told her as he stood up to defend New Jersey. The young Utah deals with a ton of "mocking" by his siblings for his father (not America, but Deseret) being Mormon, so he feels sympathy for any other state that gets mocked for something that they can't help.

"Oh, really? Well, here's a question for you, salty child! Which one of Deseret's ten wives is your mommy?"

"He had only seven!" Utah retorts. "One…for each day…of the week…"

In hearing that, Alabama faints, and Mississippi goes all wide-eyed and looks as if he was punched in the gut.

"Hey, guys! I have an idea!" The extremely upbeat and unassuming Florida shouts out.

"Yeah? What's up, Florida?" responds Delaware.

"We evacuate the Rust Belt, and move them down here to the south, where they can be happy and not continue their miserable northeastern lives! Yay!"

"What's wrong with you?!" West Virginia asks.

"That's just mean, Florida. Don't insult the Rust Belt…" Ohio muttered.

"Yes. If it wasn't for us, this country wouldn't even exist!" stated Pennsylvania. "Michigan, why aren't you taking offense from what Florida said too?"

"What's the point?" Michigan mutters, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms. Ever since the decline of heavy industry, the Great Lakes State has become less and less energetic, especially when reminded of his former title as economic powerhouse of America.

"You okay, Mich?" asks Indiana. She has a close sibling-esque bond with Michigan, who she always feels like she needs to take care of for whatever reason.

"Yeah, Indy. I'm fine. What makes you think I'm not?"

"Heh. You're trying to help him. Haha." Ohio snickers, finding it funny that his least favorite sibling has to have Indiana try to help him. Ohio and Michigan have a rivalry and dislike of each other that goes back all the way to the 1820s. "Whatever. So how bout we talk about SOPA, a plan put in by Texas… Who isn't even here."

"God… the Stop Online Piracy Act… If this thing passes, I'm leaving. I will move up north with Uncle Canada." Washington states. He's more tech savvy than any other state, even California (who came up with home computers, Google and the iPod out of boredom) and Texas (who started NASA when he wanted to claim the Moon to look for even more oil).

"We have an Uncle?!" asks a shocked Arizona.

"Ay, chica. I don't think so… Well, I have an uncle. Señor Mexico. But tu, I no think so," responded New Mexico. Even among his nephews and nieces, Canada gets forgotten…

Suddenly, the doors broke down. Several states stand up and prepare to take down whoever just showed up. As if on cue, everyone's "favorite state" shows up.

"Howdy, guys! Sorry I'm late! Hope I ain't have been keeping yall waiting all the long while so far!" Texas obnoxiously shouts out as he stands with hands on his hips, laughing.

"Yay… The idiot's arrived…" muttered New York. He's had some serious competition for the title of America's Favorite State, by both the loud and gun-crazy cowboy Texas and the crazy yet attractive surfer girl/actress California.

"So! Y'all ready to talk guns? I say all o' y'all need a gun!" Texas voiced out, addressing his siblings.

"Way ahead of you, man." Oklahoma said, pulling his own rifle out from below the table.

"Holy crap! Was that there the whole time?!" asked Kansas, sitting next to Oklahoma. "I get scared seein' you with a gun like that already, but did you have to bring one here?"

"Hey, does anyone know if guns are even legal here in the district?" Idaho asked, raising her hand.

Still refraining from looking up from his book, Connecticut answered her question. "Carrying a handgun in the District is prohibited. All firearms are to be kept at one's home or place of business. All firearms must be unloaded and disassembled or locked with a trigger lock except when kept at a registrant's place of business or while being used for lawful recreational purposes. Self-defense in one's home with a firearm is therefore legally precluded. Non-residents like us are prohibited from carrying or possessing a firearm while traveling through the District unless the gun has been registered with the Metropolitan Police."

Everyone just stared at him like he was crazy.

"Man, you're a freaking genius…" muttered South Dakota, the only one to be able to actually speak after that.

"So… Guns." Calmly stated Texas.

"No! Stop! Stop talking about guns!" shouted out Colorado. She began crying.

"Colorado, come on. Let's take a walk. See the beautiful flowers." Nevada consoled. He turned around and glared at Texas, muttering "Dark Knight Rises, you asshole."

"Yeah, Collie, it's peaceful out there." Wyoming comforted.

As the three of them leave, the room is dead silent. Texas and Pennsylvania both sit back down and look down.

"Well… Now what?" asked a bored Maine.

Tennessee and Arkansas meet eyes and begin playing the blues on their instruments, convincing the just recovering Alabama to join in singing.

"S'cuse me, Delly and Ohio?" spoke up Maryland.

"Yeah?"

"Things are a bit crazy now… Maybe now's a good time for a lunch break…"

"Maybe… All right, one hour recess, everybody!"

Everyone left the room except for Pennsylvania and Texas, who stare at each other.

"I hate you, damn Quaker," Texas states, pulling out his revolver.

"And I hate you, jagoff redneck," Pennsylvania responds, picking up his shovel.

Suddenly, Virginia walks in, and sees the two of them ready to attack. She rushes in and kicks down both of them, sending them both straight to the floor.

"Teaches you not to hurt each other. Hah!" she tells them, walking out of the room with pride.

XXXX

At a local restaurant, Kentucky, Hawaii, Louisiana, and Minnesota all sit down together to eat and discuss the craziness going on between their siblings.

"I mean, like how do all of you deal with each other every day?" asks Hawaii, who lives far away from the other states.

"Well, most the time, we don't really see more than our neighbors on a regular basis, so we can deal with each other most of the time." Kentucky responded, as he bit into a substantial sized piece of fried chicken.

"Yeah, I only have to deal with Texas, Arkansas, Mississippi and sometimes Oklahoma on a regular basis. Not that bad, hun."

"Oh. I see."

"Hey, Minnesota. Why ain't you talking?"

"It's called Minnesota Nice," he said, grinning.

XXXX

Back in the meeting room, the states all sat down, most staring at the groaning and limping Texas and Pennsylvania.

"Sorry, man…" Texas apologized.

"I am as well… No more fighting."

"At least not when Virginia is within a mile distance. Haha."

"Haha. Yes."

Ohio and Delaware look at the states all on their own. D.C. walks in with New York's coffee, only to see that he already brought in a gigantic cup himself. Illinois pulled out cards and poker chips, and begins playing poker with Michigan, Wisconsin, Indiana and Missouri. Missouri all of a sudden stands up, laughing as Indiana facepalms. New Hampshire and Vermont are arm wrestling. Vermont uses his open hand to fondle New Hampshire's wrestling arm, throwing him off guard and making the laughing Vermont win. On the other side of the room, North and South Carolina are bickering as usual, and California is singing out Katy Perry songs as loud as she can. Alaska pulls out a fish that she begins skinning, much to Montana's disgust.

"Delaware?" Ohio said.

"Yep?"

"We're fine as a family without having to change things, aren't we?

"Yeah, no need for this meeting, really."

"More like this is just a bad time for this."

"Well, there's never a good time for this."

"Nope… There is not. Haha."

And so, as usual, nothing gets done in Congress, and the citizens continue to watch as nothing happens.

TO BE CONTINUED…

STATE BIO #5

TEXAS

Human Name: Steve Lyndon Bush.

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Blue

Personality Traits: Loud-mouthed, says/does-before-thinking, proud, independent-minded

Pet: Brown stallion named Rodeo

Birthday: December 29th

Original parent: Spain

Previous bosses: France, Spain, Mexico, himself (as Republic of Texas), Confederacy

Closest friends: Oklahoma, Louisiana, America, himself

Enemies: Pennsylvania, Washington

Significant accessories: His cowboy hat, his lasso, and his revolver

Hobbies: Being a badass, cow wrangling, horse riding, being a computer genius, making spaceships, eating barbequed steak

Favorite Music Genres: Country, Rock

Favorite TV Show: Dallas

Government Department: National Aeronautics and Space Administration


	6. Chapter 6: Missing Papa

_Well, guys, Gormanbros here, welcoming you back. Any review would be great. States, territories, D.C. and other U.S. regions are mine, any countries or references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. Thanks for reading!_

CHAPTER 6: Missing Papa

Alaska is taking a plane home from the meeting. She found it all incredibly boring, a complete waste of her time. _The others didn't even let me speak up. I had such a good idea too… Making grizzly bears be their personal security guards... It's perfect. _As she silently pouted, she glanced out the window and saw large mountains as she neared Juneau's Airport. "Ah…. How beautiful… I bet papa would agree…"

Russia was Alaska's actual father, not America. Most of the kids aren't America's, actually. Their parents are other countries, mainly Britain, France, or Spain's. A few have other parents, and a few are actually America's. However, barely any of the states resemble their birth countries. Alaska is an exception. Physically, she's unique. But mentally and emotionally, she's her daddy's girl.

_It was a while ago, wasn't it…_

XXXX

Russia had a new obsession. He didn't usually get very attached to things, but for some reason, upon finding Alaska in the late 1600's, she struck a soft spot in him. She stayed as a baby for several decades, and was raised as a Russian as well. She didn't actually begin to age past childhood until around 1800, when she moved into her house in Sitka.

One afternoon, Alaska was sitting on the floor at Russia's house and was drawing a picture of them fishing together. Belarus, desperately wanting to wed Russia (her brother), had snuck into his house to see why he wasn't answering her daily letters to him. She saw the teenage Alaska with Russia and was extremely jealous, not knowing about Alaska at all. _What?! Who is that woman talking to my Russia?! I must kill her! He's mine!_

"Papa?"

"Da?"

"I am your most favorite girl in the whole wide world, da?"

"Kolkolkol. Of course, my little Alaska. You are the best." She smiled and Russia reached in to hug his favorite child.

At that, Belarus was so furious she could've been on fire and it wouldn't have made any difference. She left her hiding spot and leaped at Alaska, knife in hand. "HE'S MINE, VIEDZMA!" (Belarusian for witch)

Alaska screamed and Russia grabbed Belarus by the arm, preventing her from hurting Alaska.

"No! Let me kill her!"

"What are you doing, Belarus?"

"You're cheating on me with that… thing! How dare you!"

"What are you talking about? We are not married, sister. And she is my daughter."

Belarus looked shocked, then angry, then oddly excited. Russia actually was creeped out by her face. She quickly embraced Alaska, who went limp in Belarus' tight hug. "You are our baby girl! Hahaha! Yay! I have always wanted to share a daughter with Russia! This is the happiest day of my life! I mean, I'd rather you be a baby still, but I can deal with you being a teen! But wow! My baby girl! I love you! Russia! We're parents!"

"Er… You're not her mother…" Russia quietly told his creepy sister.

"What? How am I not?" she asked, clueless.

"I found little Alaska all alone far away. She is mine now."

"We can share her! As our baby daughter!"

"Nyet, sister. Please go away now, da?"

"No! I must get to know little Alaska!"

"Papa…. I'm scared of creepy lady." Alaska whispered to Russia.

"What?!" shouted Belarus. "I am not scary! Whatever. I'll be back, Russia. And you will marry me! And Alaska will be my little girl!" she yelled as she stormed out of the room.

"I'm sorry, my little Alaska."

"She really scares me… She will not be my mama, right?"

"No."

Russia knew he couldn't let Belarus near Alaska again, so he sought out somebody to take care of her. After reviewing all of his options, he came to America. _America… Of all people to take care of my precious Alaska, it's America… _

"Papa, what is wrong?"

"Ah… Well, Alaska, it's dangerous here with Belarus, da?"

"Da…"

"Well, how about America takes care of you? How do you like that idea?"

"What about you?"

"I'll still be here. You can write letters to me."

"But I'll still miss you!"

"Well, this is for your own good, my little Alaska…"

XXXX

Over the course of the next few days, Russia began training Alaska. She learned how to eat quadruple cheeseburgers and extra large fries. She learned how to fly planes of all sizes and how to shoot a rifle.

"You're ready, my little Alaska."

"Well, yeah, pops! I'm so a hero."

"Kolkol. You are a funny one." Russia responded, attempting to put on a happy face. _My little girl… gone… I've already lost her… _

XXXX

The two of them are now sitting in Russia's office, where America is snacking on a large bag of potato chips.

"Whazzup, doughface?"

"Kolkolkol. I do not have a doughface."

"Whatever, dude. So what did you want?"

"Well, would you like to buy Alaska from me?"

"Hi." She quietly said, slightly trembling.

"Buy a person?"

"Da, she comes with over 663 thousand miles too. Alaska, would you like to tell him about yourself?"

"Well, I loove burgers! They are like the best food ever! And like, flying planes is sooo cool! All kinds of planes! Big ones and little ones, all of them! OMG theres also shooting things! I looove shooting things with rifles. And like that's about it, dude."

Russia cringed, but somehow still smiled. America's mouth was wide open, in complete and utter shock.

"Wow! You're amazing, Alaska! I'll buy her! How much? Like 300, 500 dollars?"

"Only 7.2 million dollars. Wait. 120 million with inflation." Russia tells him, smiling.

"Whoa… She has to be the most awesome person in the world to be that much. Britain's gonna be so jealous of my expensive girl person! Yeah! I'll buy her!

"Very good. You can have her. I will have your money now, da?"

"Yeah, okay man, whatever! As long as I get the epic girl!"

XXXX

Back in modern day, Alaska steps off of her plane. _I wonder how papa's doing today… I hope that scary woman isn't bothering him any more… Maybe I should ask loud and obnoxious father if I can visit papa… I miss him…_

XXXX

Meanwhile, down south, Florida is sitting in his car, looking out at the Atlantic Ocean, watching and smiling as other drivers who have stopped stare at him oddly, likely wondering whether he is even old enough to drive. He doesn't know why, but even though he's one of the oldest of the states, he has a youthful vibe about him, making him seem younger than the other states.

"Hey, bro! What's up?" he asks a fellow driver, who is staring at him.

"Er… Are you even old enough to drive?"

"Bro… I'm like 450 years old."

"Haha. Very funny. You're not 450."

"True. I'm a little younger."

"Whatever." He muttered as he walked away.

Florida sat back and chuckled to himself. _I'm 447. Still told him the truth about being younger than 450… Probably would've scared the fool. Ah… Look at that time. Better keep moving. Got a party in Miami to go to. Gonna be off the hook!_

The Sunshine State continued southward until he reached downtown Miami. He steps out of the car and walks down the street, grinning and winking at all the young and attractive women he sees walk by. He sees an oddly familiar looking young girl in a pink sundress step out of a store eating an orange.

"Conch?"

"Florida?"

TO BE CONTINUED…

STATE BIO #6

ALASKA

Human Name: Valeriya Seward

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Violet

Personality Traits: Quiet, reserved, often times unseen. She tends to sit back and watch the other states deal with problems themselves

Pet: Her moose, Zoloto, Alaskan Malamute, Piper

Birthday: January 3rd

Original parent: Russia

Previous bosses: Russia

Closest friends: None really, except for Russia

Enemies: Minnesota

Significant accessories: None

Hobbies: Flying planes, preserving nature, hunting, fishing, shipping oil

Favorite Music Genres: Folk, Classical, Opera, Russian music

Favorite TV Show: Northern Exposure

Government Department: Federal Aviation Administration


	7. Chapter 7: The Conch Republic

_Well, guys, Gormanbros here. Welcome back. Reviews, comments and any constructive criticism are very much appreciated. States, territories, D.C. and Conch Republic are mine, any countries or references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. Thanks for reading!_

CHAPTER 7: The Conch Republic

"Conch?"

"Florida?"

Florida was walking down the street in downtown Miami when he saw his annoying little sister, the Conch Republic, step out of a store biting into an orange.

"What are you doing on the mainland?"

"Eating an orange… Isn't it obvious?"

"Well, I don't like seeing you here."

"You can go away, you know."

"Sis, this is my largest city!"

"No it's not!"

_Crap, she's right… How did I forget about Jacksonville? Fail… _"Well, whatever. Just go back down to the Keys now, kay?"

"Eh… Maybe mañana."

"Maybe now."

"No! It's so cool up here with the endless stretch of beachside resorts named after gems and fish! And there's all the old people and oranges here too! So cool!"

XXXX

You see, the conflict dates back to 1982, there was a surge in illegal immigrants and narcotics coming up from Cuba and passing through the Florida Keys on the way to mainland U.S.

"Hey, man! It's been a while! What's up?" asks America. Florida had just called him down to tell him about the Keys issue.

"Dad, I think Cuba's trying to infiltrate us… For reals this time."

"Aw… Cuba..? I'm sick of dealing with that ugly, cigar-loving jerk."

"Yeah… Well, they problems are coming up here from Key West mainly."

"Isn't Key West your sister?"

"Yea… She's like just a little chica though."

"Dude! Your sisters a chicken?"

"No. Chica… It means girl."

"Well, sorry, but I don't speak Floridianese."

"It's Spanish."

"I don't speak much Spanish. Only a few words. I know taco, burrito, nacho, fiesta, salsa and guacamole."

"... So back to the topic at hand, kay?"

"Okay."

"So I say we set up a police barricade on the Overseas Highway. That way we can make sure that everyone heading north is doing legal stuff."

"Sure, dude. Whatever."

XXXX

Key West (she didn't start calling herself Conch Republic until the conflict started) was at her beachfront home drinking orange juice. She really wanted to drink margaritas and wine like the rest of the citizens of the island, but she was too young yet…

"I'm bored." She whined, to no one in particular. She wasn't particularly fond of her older brother, but he did have a lot of fun stuff in his state. _Haven't gone to Disney World yet… I wanna go there. Yeah! Gotta be lots of fun!_

She hopped on her bike and rode her way up on the highway connecting the Keys to the main part of Florida. A little while after she passed Key Largo, she saw a ridiculously long line of cars backed up on the road. "Oh, come on! What's wrong now?" she whined.

"The cops. They're holding us back. They think we're illegals or are hiding drugs or something," responded a man in a car next to her, seemingly equally annoyed.

"Oh." _Florida. I'm sure this was his idea. That jerk. I'll show him who's boss! _She got back on her bike and rode up to the front of the line. There were 2 police cars and her brother's bright blue roofless car, with him and America in it, both eating tacos.

"Hey, Orange-brain!"

"Hey, hermana! What's up with you?"

"Why do you need to block people like this? Isn't there another way to find drugs and Cubans?"

"No, sis. This is the best way, kay?"

She glared at him. "This is really bad, idiot. You'll regret getting on my bad side."

"You're bad side?"

"Si."

"Chica, the worst thing you've ever done is steal from people. Months after they die."

"Well, maybe I killed them, huh?"

"Sis… They were shipwrecked… I know everything that happens down here. You don't run a secret mob gang… That's Illinois' job."

XXXX

Meanwhile, at his home in Springfield, Illinois felt a strange pain in his forehead. _Why am I getting that 'someone thinks I'm a gangster headache' again?_

XXXX

Key West left her brother and made it back to her home by sunset. Pulling out a megaphone, she shouts out to her fellow Conchs. "Buenas tardes, amigos! It's me, Key West. If you aren't aware already, we're being blocked from easy entry because of drugs and illegals from Cuba! If any of you are in possession of illegal drugs or are an illegal immigrant, I suggest you stay here. I think you'll be fine."

About a third of the crowd sighed in relief.

"So, I say that we rise up, and leave America! Together, we shall rise! We are the Conch Republic!" The crowd cheered in approval and she laughed victoriously.

XXXX

In the next few days, America and Florida receive word of Conch's rebellion.

"What is she thinking?" angrily asked Florida. "What a foolish idea. Idiot!"

"Florida, man. Calm down!"

"Dad, sorry. I just… She can be so frustrating sometimes."

"Well, look at it the way I am! This is funny and awesome! I've never seen this, an area trying to leave the U.S. because they didn't like the people north of them."

"Er… what about the Confederacy?"

America's face suddenly darkens. "Don't…bring…that up." He softly mutters. Florida became slightly afraid.

"I…I'm sorry…"

"Just… don't…don't mention the Confederacy again."

"Okay... So… Ready for us to head down there in a Coast Guard ship with a few troops?"

"Yeah."

"Yea?"

"Yep."

"Cool."

"Fun."

"Well… I say we go, Florida."

"Yea. No probs."

XXXX

Conch (she calls herself that instead of Key West starting with the rebellion), is issuing battle commands to her citizens. She is making all the citizens who are able to wield a gun to fight. Of course, Conchs don't own actual guns. The worst conflicts that would ever happen on the island are bar fights, and with the citizens being mainly old people, the fights consist of cursing and shaking fists and sleeping. Instead, she's administering water guns to the most responsible and sober citizens (.02 percent of Conchs).

"Okay, guys. I see the American's boat. Ready with the stale bread?"

"Yes, miss."

"Excelente."

Meanwhile on the boat, Florida and America are looking out at the sea. Florida still couldn't help but wonder why America still acted all weirdly when the Civil War was brought up.

"Hey, dad?"

"Yeah? What's up?"

"Um… what are you going to do about Conch once you return her to my control?"

"You know, man? She's kinda funny for this. I'll let her become her own state! Haha!"

"But there's not even a hundred thousand people in the Keys!"

"So what? It would be funny!"

"Eh..."

"Well, have fun. I'm bored here. Where's the nearest beach?"

"Everywhere?

"Okay. Have fun. Call me when she surrenders." America told Florida as he hopped onto a whale that just emerged from the water.

_Dad's so weird… Well, looks like we're at Key West now. _Florida stepped up to the front of the ship, wielding a concealed handgun in case of emergency. He looked down to see a bunch of people glaring up at him and his "soldiers". They seemed to be holding stale Cuban bread. _What? Their weapons are stale bread? Are they crazy?!_

Conch stood in the middle of the crowd and made eye contact with her older brother. "Hey, orange brain! You are trespassing in the Conch Republic! You and your amigos need to go away now, or we shall be forced to attack you!"

"Sis, come on. This is stupid. We have weapons. You have bread."

"That's hard and club-like!"

"Fine. You want to fight?"

"Yeah! You?"

"Yea!"

"Cool! You wanna fight?"

"Yes, I want to fight."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Stop it!"

"After you, sis!"

"Maybe mañana, you know, after you do!"

"This is stupid, sis…"

"You're stupid."

"You're uncreative!"

"Jerk!"

"Loser!"

"Orange brain!"

"Whiny pirate wannabe!"

XXXX

The pointless argument continued for another few hours. Nobody died or got badly injured, but Florida actually got a bruise on his arm by his sister's bread loaf, to his absolute amazement. Florida left the island and let Conch still believe she was her own country. She refused America's ridiculous offer, and to this day, still hasn't aged enough to drink.

TO BE CONTINUED…

STATE BIO #7

FLORIDA

Human Name: Joshua Rosales

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Eye Color: Brown

Personality Traits: Enthusiastic, youthful, talks before he thinks

Pet: His alligator, Chompy, and his manatee, Swimmy

Birthday: March 3rd

Original parent: Spain

Previous bosses: Spain, Britain, France, Confederacy

Closest friends: California (at least he thinks so), Georgia, South Carolina, Louisiana.

Enemies: Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, sister Conch Republic, Cuba (not the Cuban people, only the country)

Significant accessories: His Mickey Mouse hat

Hobbies: Fishing, riding roller coasters, playing dominoes, swimming, golfing

Favorite Music Genres: Pop, Miami Bass, salsa, rap, metal

Favorite TV Show: The Golden Girls

Government Department: United States Coast Guard


	8. Chapter 8: The Roaring Twenties

_Well, guys, Gormanbros here. Welcome back. Reviews, comments and any constructive criticism are very much appreciated. States, territories, D.C. and Conch Republic are mine, any countries or references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. Thanks for reading!_

CHAPTER 8: The Roaring Twenties

Illinois is taking a road trip outside of his home in Springfield and is visiting a farm in rural Jasper County, about halfway between St. Louis and Indianapolis in Central Illinois. He hardly ever heads down here. His jobs and his duties as state require him to spend nearly all of his time in places like Springfield, Champaign and especially Chicago. He'd like to have enough time to experience everything, but he just isn't able to, at least not without overworking himself.

"Well, I reckon it's been a while since you've came down here," says the farm owner, an older man who has known Illinois for a while now.

"Yeah. I suppose it has. Well, how's the corn doing?"

At that, the man's face darkened slightly. "You know, don't you? The drought?"

"Oh… yes, the drought."

"Reckon you haven't been keeping up with what's happening outside Chicagoland, huh?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, pal. It's nothing to apologize for. I'm used to it. Heh."

"Well, I'm not as bad as I was in the Twenties."

"Was that bad?"

"That was…interesting…" Illinois chuckled a bit and heard his phone ring. Sighing, he picked it up. "Hey, it's the Inland Empire. What's going on…Haha. Yeah, I know. Sounds pretty cool, doesn't it? …A little too imperialistic? Well tell that to New York….So it's in Springfield?...ok. I'll take care of it. Talk to you again some time."

"Who was that?"

"That was Ohio. All of the states are writing a book on being successful."

"Because of the economy?"

"Exactly. America's tired of people not working, so he's making his kids write a book."

"That sounds interestin'. Maybe I'll pick it up."

"I'm sure that at best it will be…interesting. Well, I have to go write my segment. I'll see you again soon."

"Farewell."

XXXX

In his personal office, Illinois sits down and starts looking over what else has already been written. It looks like D.C., Connecticut, Virginia and New York wrote the main part of the book, and that all 50 states put in a small few notes on how to be successful. _Well, this is quite a bit easier than I thought it would be. _Illinois thought, smiling. _Well, I'm all for simple work._ He began looking at a few of the other entries that were put in.

Ohio: _Well, if you want to be successful, just be an Ohio, or a jack of all trades. It works… Be good at everything, be excellent at none… Well, maybe excel at some things… Or focus on things or be actually cared about and looked up upon by the rest of the siblings because you're a master at something… Just….just don't be an Ohio._

North Dakota: _Just wait. People will come. Eventually. And then, you will succeed. Look at me. I'm the best state to do business in now. Hehe. Well, unless you count Texas… and Utah. And Virginia and North Carolina. But who does?_

Texas: _All right. So lets say that there's a nice little blue bouncy ball in my hands. Okay? Y'all visualizing it? So, this nice little blue bouncy ball is failure and unemployment and poverty and liberals and mistakes and commies. Now, I take this nice little blue bouncy ball, and I now firmly grasp it. And I squeeze and squeeze, choking it. Then, BAM! Pow. It's popped. Then, folks, I shoot it point blank, ten times._

Indiana: _Well, being successful is tough. I personally think that getting in any sort of illegal activity is a horrible way to rise up to success. Trust me. That's not the way you want to rise. Other than that, maintain a balance of rural and urban skills and you'll succeed nicely._

Illinois stopped and smiled after he read Indiana's. _Illegal activities? Trust me? Oh, Indiana… She must remember the Twenties as vividly as I do… That was a bizarre time…_

XXXX

It's the late 1920's. Prohibition was still underway, which made the owning and use of alcohol illegal. During that time, the illegal sale of alcohol became big business, and due to this, the mafia and other gangs rose to power in big cities throughout the U.S. The most famous of these Prohibition Era gangsters was Al Capone in Chicago. While they kept quiet about this, several states were involved with the crime wave as well. None more so than Illinois. The Prairie State was a very different person back then. Instead of being a cool pacifist with a witty sense of humor and an identity crisis, Illinois was an in-your-face, easy to anger businessman who did what he had to in order to make things go smoothly for him and his few allies.

"All right, kid. What did you want?" Illinois impatiently snapped at a young man who approached his desk in Chicago.

"Well, Missouri wanted you to know that he thinks that you should slow down the alcohol business. That America constantly thinks that he is the one with the alcohol and not you."

"Tell Missouri he should come to me if he has problems with me. Now get outta here!"

"Yes, sir, I'm sorry."

Illinois glared at the man as he stepped out. _Damn Missouri. Telling me to stop. Well, he should tell that to New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, and Indiana! They're all involved too! Hell, even Michigan just got started up in this too! Well, whatever. I've got that party to go to in an hour. It's gonna be pretty nice too. _

XXXX

Back in the present, Indiana is at her house staring at the ceiling. She was reminiscing on the past as well, for whatever reason. _I wonder if Illinois thinks about the Twenties a lot too…_

Back in the Twenties, Indiana didn't really catch onto the whole secret alcohol business like her two best friends, Illinois and Michigan.

"Michigan! What was he thinking? He's finally rising to power and he's falling to the same crap Illinois is! I mean, it's one thing when Illinois falls for stupid things, he's born to do that, but it's another when formerly pure Michigan falls for alcohol…" Indiana angrily mutters while working in her barn. She's ranting to no one in particular. She picks up her pitchfork and begins stabbing a haystack.

"Stupid Illinois! You were the best state before this! I… I…. Hmph…" she mutters, looking down at the mangled haystack. "Sorry, hay. It's Illinois's fault."

She left the barn and saw D.C. standing in front of there. "Good afternoon, Indiana."

"Hiya. Um… You've never been here."

"Well, I have a message from America." D.C. handed a piece of paper to Indiana, who then read it.

_Hey! Generic Midwestern flatland corn chick. You're not a gangster, right? Wait… Who am I kidding? You're a girl. Girls can't be gangsters. So I want you to infiltrate Illinois' party and kick his ass. Either that, or handcuff him and bring him to D.C.'s place so I can personally provide my awesome therapy sessions! Hahaha! Sincerely, The Hero._

"Wow… He's sure an interesting man…" Indiana jokes, looking up at an impatient D.C.

"Yes, I suppose so. Can you take care of the mission to redeem Illinois?"

"Yes… I can…"

D.C. smiled at Indiana and walked off to the oddly red and white automobile pulled up to the side of the road.

XXXX

Illinois fixes his bowtie, grins, and opens the door to the café he's hosting the party at. He looks out to a cheering crowd.

"How are all of you guys? Haha. Drinks…are on me."

The crowd continued to cheer. Illinois steps onward to a reserved table where he sees New York sitting by himself.

"Hey, New York."

"Illinois."

"Why you all alone?"

"No reason. Hey, man. Check it." New York mutters, casually moving his eyes to the table next to him. New Jersey and Massachusetts are cackling for whatever reason.

"Hey, Illy!" Massachusetts calls out.

"What's up?"

"Talking to Damn Yank, are you?" Massachusetts shouts out. He and New Jersey began snickering.

"Uh…"

"Yeah. Hey, New York. Why couldn't Jesus be born in your state?" asks a grinning New Jersey. New York didn't respond. "Because they couldn't find three wise men or a virgin." New Jersey and Massachusetts start cackling all over again to a furious New York.

"Hey! New Jersey. What's the first thing a New York girl does when she wakes up in the morning?"

"I dunno. What?"

"Walks home." They continue laughing, New Jersey with tears in his eyes. New York finally breaks.

"OKAY! SHUT UP! New Jersey, all of these jokes apply to you more than they do me. And, Bay State, you're a Masshole, and have the Red Sux, who never ever win. Who's laughing now?!" New York triumphantly laughs.

XXXX

Indiana steps in the café, wearing a short red dress. Way too flashy and suggestive for her usually, but she has to do what she has to do to take Illinois back. She walks in to whistling and shouts of 'telegram me, baby!' from the crowd, but stays focused on the man in a suit a few tables away.

XXXX

Illinois was grimacing at the northeastern states' drunken argument when New York suddenly spoke up.

"Wow! She's damn gorgeous… Wonderful fashion sense." At that observation, New Jersey and Massachusetts bumped fists. NY's guilty pleasure was fashion.

Illinois turned around to see what beautiful girl they were talking about. It was Indiana. Modest, down to earth, anti-dresses, farm girl Indiana. He made eye contact with her.

"Hello, Illinois."

"H..hey Indiana…. What are you doing here?"

"Came here for the party…." She smirked. "And to see you."

"Um…. Eh… It's nice to see you… Nice dress…"

"I'm glad you like it… Looks like you're eyes are at something else right now though," she half scolded/half said flirtingly.

"Oh.. Sorry." He quickly stopped checking her out and made eye contact again. Or tried.

"Hey. I have a question. Can we speak outside?" Indiana asks, pulling his arm, guiding him towards the door.

"Yeah, sure." Illinois smirks, "No problem."

Outside, she stares into his eyes, and finds herself stuck looking at them. Going according to her plan, she then embraces him. Surprised, he hugs her back. The two states have known each other and have been close friends for over a hundred years, but they had never actually hugged each other… Until now. _What are you doing, you idiot? Stop hugging him! Push him against the wall and handcuff him! Why are you still hugging him?_

"I… Indiana, I have something to tell you."

"No…. Not now."

"I'm…I'm…"

Before he had a chance to finish his sentence, Indiana pushes him against the wall with her unassuming strength and handcuffs him. "This is for your own good, Illinois." He stares up at her for a few seconds as a single tear runs down his cheek.

XXXX

Back in modern day, Illinois stares out his window. _Indiana… Do you remember that night? __I wonder if she'd have forgiven me sooner if she let me finish what I wanted to say…_

TO BE CONTINUED…

STATE BIO #8

ILLINOIS

Human Name: Robert Wayne Stevenson

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Blue

Personality Traits: Laid back guy who doesn't like conflict much. Has a dark side hinting back to his mafia past that doesn't get seen unless you really get under his skin

Pet: Cardinal named Peory

Birthday: December 3rd

Original parent: France

Previous bosses: France

Closest friends: Indiana, Michigan, Missouri, Iowa

Enemies: New Jersey, Alabama to a small extent

Significant accessories: None

Hobbies: Journalism, corn wheat and soybean farming, playing the saxophone, giving speeches

Favorite Music Genres: Blues, country, jazz, indie rock

Favorite TV Show: Roseanne

Government Department: Department of Justice


	9. Chapter 9: Mutual Enemy

_Well, guys, Gormanbros here. Welcome back. So. The first story here came from an idea shared with Anonymous Pride, but she was not available to co-write it with me. Nevertheless, I want to make sure to give her some credit for it. Reviews, comments and any constructive criticism are very much appreciated. States, territories, D.C. and Conch Republic are mine, all countries with the exception of (Spoiler Alert!) Mexico and references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. Thanks for reading!_

CHAPTER 9: Mutual Enemy

It's the Fourth of July in Washington, D.C. Several countries were visiting the city to celebrate America's birthday. Well, at least the countries that don't downright hate or are annoyed by him. So basically, around a third of them showed up.

Britain is walking down the green fields of the National Mall. He's carrying a couple of cheeseburgers he bought at one of the over nine thousand McDonald's in the U.S. "Why does he eat so many of these stupid burgers? Not how I tried to raise him. Then again, this is the same America that killed off the Natives and the Bison… He's one stupid wanker, to be sure." Britain continued rambling off to himself. Looking at a large oak tree in front of him, he felt a sudden urge to do something crazy. He began throwing the burgers at the tree in anger before casually walking away nonchalantly.

The next day, while he was taking his routine morning job, America whiffed the scent of burgers. He stopped jogging and began following the smell like a dog. He came across the tree with the burgers stuck in it and stared at it in awe, mouth drooling slightly. "Dude holy crap! This is amazing! A burger tree!"

From inside one of the museums, Britain happened to glance out and see America jumping up and down and hugging the burger tree. He scoffed and moved away from the window.

Over the course of the next few days, America placed a fence around the tree and began spending most of his time gawking at it. Britain was getting ready to take a cab to the airport to return home to London when he realized that America was still fawning over the stupid burger tree. He looked over at the cab driver and said, "Scratch the airport. Can you take me to the Botanical Gardens?"

"Yeah. All right." _Am I seriously going to grow oak trees just for a slight laugh? Sometimes I wonder whether I'm the idiot. But the look on America's face will be one to remember. _Britain thinks about as he smirks.

XXXX

That next spring, around the time that the cherry trees in D.C. are in bloom, Japan had come to see the trees he had sent decades ago. That same day, America had received in the mail a box of roughly 500 saplings. The box had said Burger Trees, from your mum. "Woah… More burger trees? That's amazing! Yeah!"

Outside, sitting on a bench are D.C. and Japan.

"I really do love the trees, Mr. Japan."

"You are welcome. They are most beautiful this time of the year, aren't they?"

"Yeah. My favorite time of the year is coming out after the long winter and seeing all the beautiful cherry trees in bloom."

Japan and D.C. hear a loud, rumbling sound and suddenly see a bulldozer coming their way.

"What is going on?" asked a concerned Japan.

"I don't know! What the hell is dad doing?!"

"How do you know it's America?"

"It's always America."

The bulldozer heads for the cherry trees and tramples them one by one. Behind the dozer, the two typically introverted people watch as America plants a burger tree sapling.

"What are you doing, America?!" shouted D.C.

"Planting burger trees, obviously! Haha!"

"But… I gave you the cherry trees as a gift."

"So?"

XXXX

By the next week, the city of Washington was covered with oak tree saplings. None of them grew any burgers yet, but an atypically patient America waited and waited to receive the wondrous "burger fruit". Back in London, Britain leans back in his armchair and reads the front cover of The Times. _**AMERICANS TEAR DOWN CHERRY TREES IN WASHINGTON IN FAVOR OF OAK TREES. CRITICS ASK WHY?**_

Britain begins chuckling at that and realizes his plan was a success. "Now… What else should I waste an entire 8 months on?"

XXXX

In a completely different location, era and circumstances from the previous story, we head back into 1848. While the eastern states were arguing over state's rights and slavery, the west coast was finally starting to take shape. There weren't any states yet. Just a few territories, Deseret and some of the Native American Indian Nations. Mexico had just utterly failed to keep some of his children from America during the Mexican-American War and the new American territories were all debating over who gets what territory.

California liked spending her time on the coast mostly. She didn't know where she got it from but she loved water and sun. She was excited. She finally was free from Mexico's control. "Yay! I no longer have to stay at Papa Mex's stupid Missions! I'm finally free, baby!" She shouts out to no one in particular.

You see, back several centuries ago, Spain had conquered the southern part of North America and had made his way inland, discovering the future states of Florida, New Mexico, Texas, California, Arizona and a few others. After the Mexican War of Independence, the future states joined Mexico and stayed together without any conflict…for a while.

As most things good things do, the peacefulness didn't last. In 1822, Texas had started inviting Americans into his territory for farming. As usual, the Americans believed that the whole world revolved around them and didn't ever consider Texas as part of anything but America. This enraged Mexico, who wasn't used to losing yet.

XXXX

It's now 1835. Mexico made the unruly and wild young California stay at the Mission San Juan Capistrano located on the coast (where Orange County is today) to try to make her learn proper manners and lessons. As time went on and she became a teen, she only got worse… She started sneaking out of the Mission to see young Mexican troops staying in the area, much to Mexico's anger.

"California! Shameful! Why you no stay and be a good little chica?! You better hope I no make un pequeño taco out of you!"

"How inspired! Is a taco all you could come up with?!"

"Cierra la boca!"

"What?"

"I said for you to shut up the mouth!"

"Dude! You're a mean jerk!"

"Go to bed! Vamos!"

"Te odio."

"No! You no hate me! Go to bed now!"

Stepping out of the room, Mexico looks down at the ground. "Damn America. Damn that Diablo. He's going to try to take all of my kids. I know he will. But something else must be taken care of. Texas."

TO BE CONTINUED…

STATE BIO #9

California

Human Name: Angelina (Angel) Mulholland

Hair Color: Bleach-Blonde

Eye Color: Blue

Personality Traits: Chatty, gossipy, loud-mouthed yet chill. Has a big lazy streak

Pet: Poodle named Beverly

Birthday: September 9th

Original parent: Spain

Previous bosses: Spain, Mexico, herself for 2 months (as Bear Flag Republic)

Closest friends: She considers herself to be one step above her siblings, which gives her no close friends really

Enemies: Disliked Nevada up until recently. Uneasy relations with Oregon

Significant accessories: Extremely expensive headphones and sunglasses

Hobbies: Surfing, driving on the coast, acting, directing, being an activist, developing websites, tanning

Favorite Music Genres: Pop, Surfer songs, rap, anything current

Favorite TV Show: Arrested Development

Government Department: Department of State


	10. Chapter 10: Lone Star

_Hey guys, Gormanbros here. Welcome back. Reviews, comments and any constructive criticism are very much appreciated. States, territories, D.C., Mexico and Conch Republic are mine, all other countries with and references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. Thanks for reading! P.S. I don't know if it's necessary, but if you guys want it, I can put author's notes at the end to clear up anything that might be obscure or maybe even answer any questions y'all might have. And yay! Chapter 10! Double digits! :)_

CHAPTER 10: Lone Star

New Hampshire is driving his car through the mountains in the western region of his state. He stops alongside a lake and gazes upward at the steep mountain towering over him. "Huh. It's so different here without him…"

Back in 1804, New Hampshire is scouting out and exploring the far reaches of his state. Riding a horse he rented, he found himself lost somewhere south of Mount Washington.

"Man.. It's so cold here… What was I thinking? There's only mountains up here... Nothing worth my time." Turning a corner, he came across something crazy. On the cliffside of a steep mountain was what appeared to be a male face. "Whoa… There's an old man up on that mountain… See that, horse? It's the coolest thing I've ever seen…"

New Hampshire continued to visit and revere the Old Man of the Mountain for another 199 years. Little did he realize, all the love and attention can cause any rock some trouble, no matter how cool it is. In 2003, New Hampshire's beloved Old Man of the Mountain fell, causing the Granite State to go into a deep depression for a year, making him do stupid things like suggest that the state flag be the Old Man's face or crying every time he saw the New Hampshire state quarter.

And they all lived happily ever after…

XXXX

"Damn America. Damn that Diablo. He's going to try to take all of my kids. I know he will. But something else must be taken care of. Texas."

Mexico leaves the Missionary that California, his rebellious teenage "daughter", stays at. He had just scolded her quite harshly, and he felt a tinge of regret at the tone he used with her. "Maybe I was a bit too harsh… No sé..."

XXXX

March 3rd, 1836.

Alongside a river that reflects the grand, open sky above it sits Texas, unusually mellow. He's contemplating the likelihood of him lasting as an independent nation for more than a few weeks. "Damn… As long as Mex is on my tail, ain't no way I can be free… Bastard's as crooked as a box of snakes… He's as ugly as a mud fence. He's…"

"Sir…" called over a young soldier travelling with Texas.

"Howdy, son. How may can I help you?"

"Um… It's high time we all left for the Alamo."

"Why the Alamo?"

"Why not?"

"Good point. Y'all know, it could might be a good idea."

Meanwhile, roughly the same distance from the Alamo, but coming up on the opposite side is a horseback Mexico trotting forward with his army. "Vamos, men!" Mexico calls out, wishing to quickly take care of Texas before the rebellious cowboy got any stronger. Just last year, in Gonzales, TX, Mexico's army had fought with Texas and his men in the first battle of the rebellion. Mexico withdrew from Gonzales, and realized that he was in for a difficult battle with the future Lone Star State. Since then, Mexico and Texas butted heads seven more times, with both sides experiencing victories and losses.

A young soldier in Mexico's army ran up, out of breath. After taking a minute to regain his composure, the soldier reported to his boss what he saw when he snuck into San Antonio to scope out the scene that lay ahead of them.

"Señor Mexico, the Texians are holding strong at the Alamo. It appears that the rebels are armed and awaiting a possible attack from us. We outnumber them though, I believe."

"Si. Gracias, brave soldier. We shall end this stupid rebellion before they gain the support of damn America."

XXXX

March 4th, 1836

At the Alamo, co-commander James Bowie prepares for the fight with Mexico. "All right. This isn't going to be easy. We can do this though, folks."

"That's right," responded William Travis, the other commander of the Alamo. "All we need to do is wait for the cannons to arrive on the 7th."

Mexico stands on a hill, watching the Alamo from a distance. He turns around and sees Texas walk up.

"Texas."

"Mex."

"You're here to die?"

"Hell no, Mex. Listen. Y'all are fixin' to kill off all o'those men over yonder, am I right?"

"What do tu think?"

"Don't. On behalf of my brothers, the Alamo surrenders." _It's for their own good. They'd done kill themselves if I don't stop the damned Mex._

"Shut up, Texas. I am not going to let them surrender! Are tu kidding me? My pride would crumble!" Mexico loudly scowls.

'Whoa there. Hold yer horses. Don't get be all bowed up there."

"You know, you say some of the weirdest things. It pisses me off when you say stupid things that I don't understand. Like, what does bowed up mean?" Texas just glares back, not having a real answer to where the term bowed up even originated.

"You done aggravate me, you know? You're meaner than a junkyard dog."

"Tu didn't answer mi question."

"Doesn't matter, Mex. Just don't attack 'em. Or else."

"Or else what?"

"You'll aggravate me for real. Remember, crusty. You don't want to mess with me." Texas threatens, as he walks away,

XXXX

March 5th, 1836

Mexico wakes up from a siesta and stares at a grand sweeping tree nearby. _Texas is going to be muy disappointed mañana when I strike the Alamo._

"Hasta luego, Texas."

At the Alamo, the two commanders stand with their men and await the possible Mexican invasion. Attempts at surrender were futile, and the men and women had not seen a single sign of Texas all week. Travis calls out to the crowd.

"An attack by Mexico and his men is very likely. We are going to have to fight for our lives here, gentlemen. Any of you that wish to escape should leave now." Travis ends, grimly. If they were attacked before the 7th, things would be very bad.

Outside the mission/fort, Texas blows a whistle and calls over his horse, Rodeo. He couldn't stand the anticipation and decided to leave on a horse ride for a while. _Mex better not hurt them… These are my people. I can't stand the idea that I might not be able protect them…_

XXXX

March 6th, 1836

It's early morning now. Mexico finally decides to move forward with his plans and stealthily plans out the attack. After commanding his soldiers to kill off the sleeping guards, he was able to lay siege.

Bam. Crumble. Smash. The outer wall fell. Travis quickly makes his way through the dense crowd of scared and chaotic men. "What the hell happened?" He shouted out.

"It's the Mexicans! They've broken in!"

"Damn it!" He charged forward, gun in hand, ready to fight for his life. "Come on, boys! The Mexicans are upon us and we'll give them hell!"

The men cheered, and followed Travis. Upon stepping outside into the frigid March dawn, their confidence became slightly deterred. "Good lord. There must be two thousand of them!" cried out a shocked soldier.

"We can do this! Don't worry, I'm sure of it, boys!" Travis called back, hiding the fact that he's just as intimidated as his soldiers. Travis took aim and shot at a Mexican soldier in the chest.

In the distance, Texas is woken up by shouts and flashes coming from the Alamo. _No. Mex. That bastard. That goddamn bastard. _The now nearly fuming Texas dashes toward his steed, Rodeo and climbs on. "Giddy up, Rodeo. It's high time for a…Rodeo."

Feeling the wind whoosh past his face as Rodeo charges forward, Texas smirks. No matter what the cause, Texas loves a good fight. "Yeehaw!" he shouts, leaping a fence and reaching the Alamo. He scopes the scene. Soldiers from both sides are being shot and killed left and right. Texas notices Mexico, horseback, smirking, eyes glistening with pure blood lust as his enemies fall to his soldiers' hands.

Commander Travis looked around after killing off two Mexicans and noticed Mexico himself, glaring directly at him. "Mexico! I'll kill you right here, right now!"

"Oh, really. Vamos then. Show me your best, muchacho," Mexico responds, beckoning Travis with a flick of his hand. The Texan commander charged towards Mexico, gun in arms. Two guns go off. Smoke veils the scene.

Texas watches with baited breath as the smoke cleared. Travis was on the ground, clutching his chest. Mexico, having jumped off his horse, stands above Travis, unscathed. Maintaining eye contact with Texas the whole time, Mexico pulled out a sword and swiftly, yet painfully ended Commander Travis' life.

"No…" Texas muttered, not believing what he just witnessed. "Wh... You… You bastard…"

"What? Pequeno Texas can't stand watching a man die?"

"What did I tell you, Mexico?"

"Ooh. Using my full name. Somebody's angry."

"I said, what did I tell you?!" Texas reiterated, building in anger.

"You did not seriously expect me to let these poor fools live, did you?"

"I thought y'all was a man of honor."

"I am. Your people have no honor, Texas. That's our problem here."

"You lie."

"What are you going to do? Shoot me?"

"Remember what I said."

"Si, I do. Bowed up."

"Damn it, Mexico. I told you loud and clear. Maybe y'all forgot it. Fine. I'll be repeating it then."

"Go on." Mexico replies, smiling.

"Don't. Mess. With. Texas." At that, Texas pulls out his revolver and shoots Mexico. Mexico manages to shoot back, but couldn't dodge Texas' bullet. They both had gotten hit. Realizing what he just did, Texas looked down. _I just shot Mex... And he… he just shot me…I… I can't think straight… I've never done got shot before… I need to get the hell out of here… _Texas staggered out in shame and managed to reach his horse. Rodeo, seeing his master's condition, realized that Texas needed to go to a quiet area, far away. Rodeo begins galloping, searching for the riverside that he and his master stopped at a few days ago. Texas continued holding on tight to Rodeo as he had flashes of Mexico murdering Travis.

TO BE CONTINUED…

STATE BIO #10

NEW HAMPSHIRE

Human Name: John Neale

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Blue

Personality Traits: Forgettable, bookworm, doesn't talk much

Pet: None

Birthday: June 21st

Original parent: Britain

Previous bosses: Britain

Closest friends: Connecticut, Vermont, Massachusetts

Enemies: Maine, North Carolina

Significant accessories: None

Hobbies: Reading, living free or dying, driving during the fall, owning summer homes alongside the Atlantic, skiing

Favorite Music Genres: Classical, rock, hip hop

Favorite TV Show: The Brotherhood of Poland, New Hampshire

Government Department: Federal Bureau of Investigation


	11. Chapter 11: Heart

_Hey guys, Gormanbros here. Welcome back. The Poll wasn't super successful, but major thanks to the one viewer who participated. There was no winner, with the 5 chosen being New York, New Jersey, Colorado, California and Florida. So, I'm trying to give several of those states some time in the spotlight here, while still keeping the focus on some other states. Reviews, comments and any constructive criticism are very much appreciated. States, territories, D.C., Mexico and Conch Republic are mine, all other countries with and references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. I don't know if it's necessary, but if you guys want it, I can put author's notes at the end to clear up anything that might be obscure or maybe even answer any questions y'all might have. Thanks for reading!_

CHAPTER 11: Heart

It was a foggy April morning in Nashville, Tennessee's hometown. All fifty states were meeting up and taking part in the second stage of the morale boosting plan came up by America. Well, at least he wished he came up with. Yet again, D.C. came up with America's plan for him, only to have him take all the credit for it. Typical plan from America.

Ohio stepped into the large showroom that all his fellow states were already in, getting set up. New York greeted him at the door.

"Hey, Ohio! Where you've been, huh? You're the last one to get here, man!"

"Sorry, I was stuck in traffic. I decided to drive down here from Columbus instead of flying down here."

"Columbus? Where the heck is Columbus? I thought your only cities were Cleveland and Cincinnati!"

"Come on, New York. Really? I've got like seven major cities! Just like you! I've got Columbus, Cleveland, Cincinnati, Toledo, Dayton, Akron and Youngstown."

"I have seven big cities?"

"I think so… Don't you?"

"Maybe. I mean, there's Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, Staten Island, Yonkers, and White Plains."

"Um… Er… Not all those are cities… What about upstate…?"

"Oh yeah. Whatever. I'm getting bored with naming off cities. So anyways, ready to show off what makes Ohio special?"

"Sure. I mean, I am the heart of it all!" Ohio confidently stated, smiling. New York laughed and walked away. "Hey! What was that supposed to mean?"

XXXX

The Buckeye State wandered around, and saw various states showing off what makes them special to the other states, as well as to common people checking out all the sights. California was proudly showing off her wine and iPhones, winking at the crowd of young men surrounding her. Vermont gave everyone he saw a small shot glass filled with maple syrup. Ohio walked over to a stressed out Washington.

"Hey, Wash. Why the long face?" asked Ohio.

"Bigfoot… He's real… You believe me, don't you? Don't you?!"

"Um… Er… Sure. I guess I believe you."

"Thank the more than likely possibly non-existent god. I'm not alone on this. Everyone who's passed my desk today has just laughed and said that Bigfoot isn't real."

"Okay… So… I have to go."

"Fine. Spread the word that Bigfoot is real for me. Thanks, man."

Ohio quickly stepped away. _Wow… I really am the sanest state here. Guess being average helps in some cases. Hey, cool, a 'Birthplace of Presidents' stall! Finally, I have a place for me to show off who I am._ Ohio sat down at the desk and smiled; glad he finally found a place for him to sit. He looked around as all the visiting people walked about. _Hey_, he thought._ Somebody's coming my way! Wait… Virginia? And why does she look pissed off at me? Crap…_

"Hey, Wonder Bread! What are you doing in my chair?!"

"What do you mean? I'm home to seven Presidents! Seven!"

"So? I'm the mother of eight."

"I'm still the home of seven. That's still a lot."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Let's go down your list, shall we?"

"Sure. Grant."

"Corrupt."

"Hayes"

"Stole the election from the Democrat."

"Garfield."

"Assassinated."

"Harrison."

"So unlikeable he was voted out. By someone who he beat four years prior."

"McKinley."

"Assassinated."

"Taft."

"He freaking got stuck in his own bathtub."

"Harding."

"Corrupt. And he died in a hotel," Virginia smiled as Ohio fumed, stood up and stormed away.

XXXX

"Now what?" softly muttered Ohio, walking over to North Carolina. He joins the crowd of half a dozen people and listens to the Tar Heel State give her speech on the Kitty Hawk flight.

"So then, y'all, way back in 1903, Orville and Wilbur Wright came to my grand state and done made the very first flight in their lil' ole aeroplane," North Carolina chirped, giggling. Ohio, standing directly opposite to her, had a slightly irritated look on his face.

"Excuse me, Carolina, if you don't mind me asking, just where did the Wright Brothers come from?"

"Doesn't matter. All that matters is that they came to North Carolina! Home of the first flight and the best barbeque in the world, y'all!" In response to her spirited cry out, the crowd cheered, and more people walked on up, curious to see just what was causing such a lively crowd.

"They were born in Akron and lived in Dayton, both in the great state of Ohio! Yay, Ohio! Go football and Americana! Yay, Ohio!" Ohio cheered, to no reaction whatsoever. "Oh, come on! This is stupid."

He passed the stall titled "Armstrong, Aldrin, Glenn and the Space Program" and saw Texas and Florida. Florida made it loud and clear that "Neil Armstrong and John Glenn were born somewhere that wasn't important", and that "you people shouldn't worry about it!"

Ohio didn't even bother visiting the "Great Lakes, Greater Times" stall, seeing that Minnesota, Michigan, New York, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana and Pennsylvania were already showing off pictures of their lakefront lighthouses and beaches.

Eventually, Ohio stopped at the "Football: America's Best Sport" stall, and ate his sandwich, stopping occasionally to tell passing visitors about his great football teams. "Yeah, it was awesome. And then three months later…" Ohio cut off when he noticed Alabama, Georgia, Texas and Florida walking towards him, all four frowning.

"Hey guys… What's up? Here to learn up on football?"

"Man, you're sitting in our spot," accused Alabama. He and the other three states are all fans of football, and make sure that their teams are among the best in the country.

"But… I love football too."

"Not as much as us," Georgia stated.

"If I were you, I'd have done left by now, apple pie." Texas scowled, using a food analogy for how average and typical Ohio is.

XXXX

"So. Ohio is almost always the site of the heated matches of the Presidential Election. This year, it's a battleground state. Both candidates really want to win here."

"Hey, hamburguesa y papas fritas. Only Florida is the heated election king. So, get out of here."

"Oh, come on! You were just at the space stall and the football stall! Just let me have one, please? How can you be everywhere at the same time?"

"I'm not…weirdo…"

XXXX

_Maybe the Amish Culture stall… _Ohio thought to himself, disheartened. _I already was kicked out of the industrial powerhouse one by Pennsylvania, Michigan, New York and Illinois, and then Illinois followed me to the Business in the Midwest stall, where he, yet again upstaged me… This is so stupid…_

Ohio looks up from his thoughts and saw Pennsylvania staring at him, looking slightly confused.

"Hey, Pennsylvania. What's up?"

"Well, you're here representing the Amish people. That's sort of my job."

"But I'm home to the most Amish people out of any state!"

"California's the most German. Does that make her the heart of German America?"

"No. I guess not. But I still have the right to stay here."

"Just go, Ohio. Find something else."

"You don't have authority over me."

"Are you kidding me? I'm older than you, have been a state longer, and have more people than you."

"So what?"

"You're starting to irritate me, jagoff. Please go now. Or else."

"Or else what?"

"Shun."

"What? Are you shunning me?" Pennsylvania didn't respond, instead, he looked forward, acting as if Ohio wasn't there. "Oh, real mature, Penn! Way to go." Pennsylvania continued. Five minutes passed. Ohio, arms crossed, doesn't leave the chair. Ten minutes. Twenty.

A half hour has passed with Ohio and Pennsylvania sitting in chairs, the latter avoiding the former. Ohio suddenly stands up.

"Okay then! Fine! I'm leaving."

"Shun."

XXXX

Ohio grabs his jacket from the coat check, and headed for the door. _None of those idiots appreciate me… Everything I do, someone else does… Am I really that bland?_ Someone poked Ohio's shoulder from behind him.

"Oh, hi o."

"Haha. Really funny," the Buckeye State scowls as he turns around to see Iowa standing behind him, smiling. "What do you want?"

"You look sad. What's wrong?"

"Nothing stands out about me. I'm not special; I'm just an average Joe."

"True, but you're the best bland and lovable state there is. There are lots of things special about you. So perk up. Come on, lets go find a place that only you can stay at."

"Okay..."

XXXX

Iowa and Ohio wandered the building and came across an empty stall with a sign next to it showing Ohio's face.

"Hey, it's you!" Iowa cheerily cried out.

"Huh. That's weird. I didn't set it up…"

Iowa and Ohio looked at the picture, and slowly looked up at the stall name overhead. 'Rivers on Fire: The Failures on the Cuyahoga.' Ohio, pissed at whoever wrote that, started fuming. Suddenly, Michigan, eating a bag of popcorn, walked past, smirking.

"Damn it, Michigan!"

XXXX

Colorado walked down the beautiful, shaded sidewalk, sweeping cherry trees lining both sides of the road. Wyoming was standing next to her, patting her on her back. "It'll be all right," Wyoming tried to console.

Just minutes beforehand, Texas had barged into the state meeting and brought up the topic of guns and gun control. While the rest of the states all either groaned or agreed with him, Colorado had a flashback to the July 2012 attack on the movie theater in Aurora, CO. She broke into tears and quickly fled the room, with Nevada and Wyoming following her out.

"He can be so inconsiderate…" muttered Colorado.

"Yeah, he's an asshole sometimes," responded Nevada. "We love him for that though, right? Right? I'm not crazy, guys, right?" he asked, jokingly. At his sarcasm, Wyoming gave a glance that told Nevada that now's not the time to make jokes. Wyoming, the smallest state in population, has never been very outspoken and visible when it comes to talking and getting involved with state issues. She'll speak when need be, but unless it's absolutely necessary, she'd love it best if she could stay quiet.

"I…I can't stand it anymore… So much killing…all those poor lives…twelve people killed and fifty-eight more injured…and I did nothing to save them…"

"What could you have done more?" asked Nevada.

"I could have been there… I could have stopped him…"

"How?"

"I…I…" she broke down crying again. Wyoming hugged her, and Nevada walked up and tried to console her as well.

"It will be all right." Wyoming whispered.

"Yeah. They're all looking at you fondly from where they are now, remembering you and listening to just how much you care, and they're smiling at you from there too. Okay?" Nevada consoled, uncharacteristically friendly and spiritual. Wyoming actually began tearing up a bit too.

"Wow." Wyoming breathed, impressed by Nevada's impressive counseling skills that seemingly rose up out of the blue.

"Thank you, Nevada… That means a lot to me…"

"You're welcome, Colorado. Now come on. Look at that. See those flowers?"

"Where?" she asked, looking around.

"There." He said, pointing at a garden up ahead of the three of them. "Wow. They're pretty, huh? Look at those pretty Columbines…" Nevada stopped smiling and looked down at the ground in horror. Colorado looked in shock.

Wyoming turned her back on them and put her hands on her hips. _Why…why did there have to be Columbines?_

TO BE CONTINUED…

STATE BIO #11

COLORADO

Human Name: Taylor Routt

Hair Color: Red

Eye Color: Blue

Personality Traits: Usually cheerful, but can be sensitive. Athletic and fun

Pet: None

Birthday: August 1st

Original parent: Spain

Previous bosses: Spain, France, Mexico

Closest friends: Wyoming, Nevada, Utah, New Mexico

Enemies: Texas

Significant accessories: None

Hobbies: Flying planes, skiing, mountain climbing, snowboarding, making military strategies

Favorite Music Genres: Alt Country, ragtime, jazz

Favorite TV Show: South Park

Government Department: Air Force Space Command


	12. Chapter 12: Outcasts

_Hey guys, Gormanbros here. Welcome back. I'm sorry about the long hiatus. It's been a mixture of writer's block, non motivation, lack of good humor ideas, and a busy schedule. I'm back though, and hopefully the cursed writer's block I've been facing will end soon. It's been taking me weeks to be able to write this… So anyways, I have decided to go back to my original plan and not go with the polls, so the chapters will go back to being random (to you guys at least. I have the entire master plan for the story at large already. And it's top secret). Reviews, comments, story ideas/requests, and any constructive criticism are very much appreciated. States, territories, D.C., Mexico and Conch Republic are mine, all other countries with and references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. Thanks for reading!_

CHAPTER 12: Outcasts

Rhode Island steps out into the sunlight. He looks both ways, sees a sign that indicated he was in the right city, and stepped out of the train. He makes his way through the crowd and exited the station. _Been quite a while since I was here in New Haven. Where is he…? _The short northeastern state wondered to himself.

"Hello, Rhode Island," a voice greeted from behind him.

"Ah, good afternoon, Connecticut."

"It's eleven in the morning."

"Whatever. Good morning."

"Ready for lunch?"

"Sure. Where are we eating?"

"Louis' Lunch."

"All right. Why there?"

"Louis' Lunch is the site of the first hamburger. Louis Lassen created the first hamburger in the year 1900."

"America knows this, right?"

"I highly doubt it. America only visits me when his foreign-made car crashes and he needs insurance."

XXXX

Connecticut and Rhode Island sit down in the diner and look around at the surroundings. A waitress makes eye contact with Connecticut and walks over. "Well, how are you doing?"

"Pleasant enough. You?"

"I'm all right. Looks like you've brought a friend! Welcome to Louis' Lunch, home of the hamburger!"

"Um. Thank you."

"So what are you going to have?"

"I'll have my usual. He'll have what I'm having."

"All right." The waitress smiled at Connecticut and turned back to Rhode Island. "Now, sonny, would you like a kid menu and some crayons?" At that, Connecticut subtly smirked, as Rhode Island took offense.

"What?"

XXXX

A few minutes later, Rhode Island was chewing on his burger while drawing a picture of a sailboat on the back of his menu, even though just minutes ago, he was offended at the whole height thing. As Connecticut wiped his hands with his napkin, he asked Rhode Island a question. "Do you remember back when you were younger?"

"Yeah. Massachusetts was still a jerk even then," Rhode Island muttered.

"Yes, I suppose he was. Do you happen to have any memories of the time you had to move out of Massachusetts' house?"

"Of course I do. Changed my life."

"Do you mind telling me the story?"

"No problem."

XXXX

The Puritan beliefs have spread into North America from the United Kingdom. The movement among colonies is led by young Massachusetts, who is physically still a young teen at this point. The current year now is 1636, six years after the settling of the Bay Colony. Massachusetts is currently pacing back and forward through his home in Boston. His young friend, Rhode Island, has expressed interest in free choice of what religion to believe in. This angered Massachusetts, who refuses to allow any religions other than his own in the colony.

_What must I do…? He's my friend… Yet he's also the spawn of the devil. Rhode Island is working against the all-encompassing holy Puritan beliefs. I must fulfill the wishes of God. I must… _

Massachusetts looked up as his door creaked open. Little Rhode Island (not typical -Rhode Island little. More like microscopic, child-size, Lilliputian little) stepped in, with a tiny smile on his face.

"Yes?" asked a stressed Massachusetts.

"Just wanted to play some with you, Massachusetts!"

"Well, I uh… can't. Not now. Can you please go?"

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing! Nothing is the matter, Rhode Island!"

"I'm sorry to bother you, Massy."

"What did you call me?"

"Massy. Is there a problem with that?" Rhode Island asked, sincerely.

"Get out!"

Visibly disappointed, Rhode Island quietly made his way out of the room. Massachusetts closed the door behind the small guy and stood there for a while, his head resting on the door. _I can't… I can't fulfill your wishes for Rhode Island, my Lord. I can't execute him. He's just a boy. No matter how evil he may be, I still can not watch him die. I am sorry, lord._

Dawn breaks over the young city of Boston. Most of the citizens of the city have been awake for quite a while, and are now experiencing the sunrise. A good dozen men quietly and drowsily chat as they proudly watch their livestock graze on the open meadows of the Boston Commons. Nearby, from a large two story colonial, Massachusetts slowly makes his way down the steps. He begins making his way for the harbor, Rhode Island's favorite spot to hang out at. The conflicted Massachusetts avoids making eye contact with any of his fellow Bostonians as he makes his way past them. _I wish I could just vanish at this exact moment. I hate this. But, I'm doing it for you, lord. So I must. Please accept my plans instead of making me kill the boy._

XXXX

Rhode Island is watching a group of rough looking men of the sea hauling crates unto a large boat. He has always been fascinated by boats for as long as he can remember. All of a sudden, he hears footsteps approaching him. Turning his head quickly, he saw Massachusetts looking down at him.

"G'morning, Massy! Did you come to see the boats too?"

"No, I came to get you." Massachusetts stated, with an uncharacteristic lack of emotion.

"Why?"

"We're going for a ride."

"A ride? Cool!"

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

"When do we leave?"

"How about a half hour from now? Go pack your belongings. We may be a while."

"All right. Will do!"

XXXX

For the next half hour, Massachusetts felt sick, but knew he was doing the right thing. He looked over towards the path to see an old friend of his, a man only slightly younger than himself, who will accompany the duo to Rhode Island's destination.

"Are you ready?" he asks.

"Once Rhode Island arrives."

"Very well, Massachusetts. Very well…" the young man responded. Massachusetts thought he could hear an odd strain on the words said to him. He wasn't sure whether it was irritation, disappointment, or a strange mixture of both.

Coming now from around the corner was Rhode Island. He was struggling to pull a very large sack behind him.

"How much are you bringing?" snaps Massachusetts.

"Only everything we might need for the ride. Snacks, books, clothes, a chessboard, a couple of board games, toys, another change of clothes for me, a model sailboat, teacups and a life-size portrait of Britain."

"What? Why in the lord's name would you need all of those?! You imbecile!"

The young man, feeling sympathetic, quickly walked up to the struggling Rhode Island and picked up the bag for him, strapping it to his own horse.

"Thanks, sir!"

"No problem," responded the man, glancing at the frustrated Massachusetts.

XXXX

A good twenty or so minutes later, the trio set off, Massachusetts and Rhode Island on one horse, their accomplice and Rhode Island's luggage on another.

"Are we there yet?" asked a bored Rhode Island.

"No! We are not!" snapped back Massachusetts.

"Can I have some food?"

"We just ate!"

"But I'm still hungry!"

"Well, just deal with it."

"Are we almost there?"

"No…"

"Can we stop now?"

"Why would we do that?"

"I need to go potty!"

"Well, too bad! Hold it in, imbecile!"

"But I don't know how much longer I can!"

"Just enough! Enough with your whining! This is my horse, mister, and I can turn this thing around at any minute, so just be quiet and enjoy the ride!" shouted Massachusetts.

Several minutes pass where there is complete silence in the ride, except for the sound of galloping horses, shaking grass and chirping birds. The young man riding behind the bickering colonies doesn't dare break the silence to tell them that they're past Plymouth. Suddenly, the silence is shattered by Rhode Island.

"Are we there yet?"

XXXX

A few hours later, as the sun begins it's gradual downward slope in the afternoon, the trio reach their destination. They're alongside a natural harbor as well as a small river. It would be the perfect destination for Rhode Island's favorite sailboats to sail into for him to see. They end up on top of a hill.

"Where are we?" asked Rhode Island.

"Your new home," Massachusetts told him, voice devoid of emotion.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"You are going to live here by yourself now. Without me. It's for your own good. Farewell, Rhode Island." Massachusetts ended, before signaling his accomplice to drop off Rhode Island's belongings and follow him. The Bay Colony then quickly rode off away from Rhode Island. The man nodded, looking distressed.

Glancing over at the visibly hurt Rhode Island, the man walked up to console the boy.

"It will be all right, Rhode Island."

"Why did he leave me?" the small new colony whimpered, starting to cry.

"He is just… troubled. He needs to be left alone. Come on. Be strong. I will help you. I'll build a house for you, and maybe even a boat or two."

"Really?"

"Yep." The man said, smiling. "Now if you don't mind, I need to go take care of something." He hopped onto his horse and sped towards Massachusetts.

XXXX

"And that was about it. The man came back and helped me like he said, then left once I was all right." Rhode Island ended, Connecticut listening intently. The Ocean State looked up and saw the waitress, as well as several other people standing around the table, several with tears in their eyes.

"Is that so? Well, that's nice," smiled Connecticut.

"I never knew his name though."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

"Rhode Island, that young man was me," Connecticut revealed. "Seeing Massachusetts treat you like that made me realize I needed to get away from him, so I helped you and then formed my own colony."

"What? Are you serious?"

"Yep," Connecticut said, smiling. "Now if you don't mind, I need to go take care of something."

TO BE CONTINUED… HOPEFULLY WITHOUT ANOTHER LONG HIATUS…

STATE BIO #12

CONNECTICUT

Human Name: Thomas (Tom) Davenport

Hair Color: Blond

Eye Color: Green

Personality Traits: Calm, calculated, highly intelligent with an excellent memory

Pet: Whale, named Nathan

Birthday: January 9th

Original parent: Britain

Previous bosses: Britain, Massachusetts

Closest friends: New York, New Hampshire, Rhode Island

Enemies: Mississippi, Massachusetts

Significant accessories: Nothing

Hobbies: Reading, building boats and submarines, fishing, working on insurance, writing, trading nutmegs

Favorite Music Genres: Classical, rock, jazz

Favorite TV Show: Gilmore Girls

Government Department: United States Navy


	13. Chapter 13: The Dakotas

_Hey guys, Gormanbros here. Welcome back. New chapter in mach speed. Haha. I suppose I've gotten over the writer's block, and am back, stronger and more inspired then ever. Hope that this…unique…chapter is good. A lot going on I suppose. Anyhow, reviews, comments, story ideas/requests, and any constructive criticism are very much appreciated. States, territories, D.C., Mexico and Conch Republic are mine, all other countries with and references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. Thanks for reading!_

CHAPTER 13: One Dakota, Two Dakota, North Dakota, South Dakota

It's a cloudy day in early November, in the year 1889. America is out along the side of the road in Washington, D.C. Other people stop along the road and stare at him, nosily wondering what he's up to. _I can do this. It's gonna be awesome. Absolutely awesome. I am going to build the largest pile of leaves in the world. And I'm gonna jump in it. And it's going to be freaking awesome. _

The bespectacled nation pushes back his hair from his face. This is the most determined he's been in decades. _Haven't worked this hard since…since…the war…that damn war…_

XXXX

A good ten minutes or so later, America's leaf pile reaches an impressive forty feet tall. He knows. He measured it. A barely hidden grin covers his face as he runs inside the office building adjacent to his pile. Reaching the top, he opens the window and looks down at the pile.

"Yeah! Leaf time!"

He jumps into the pile, shouting in pure excitement the entire time. _Crash. Crumble. Thump. _Reaching the bottom of the pile, America shouts out to the world. "That. Was. Amazing! Wooooo! I love autumn! Nothing could ruin this day!"

"Excuse me, dad?" a voice asks from behind America. The nation's smile slowly faded. _Great… One of my kids… I think… Aw crap. I don't know who's talking to me… Who is that? Agh… Dang it. Hey, wait! I have an idea!_

"I think you have me mistaken, young sir. For I am not your father. I'm Canada, eh. Maple syrup! Hockey! Kumasomething! Blue Jays! Eh!"

"No you're not… You're America…"

"Oh yeah? Prove it."

"Okay… Um… What is your capital city?"

"Well, you hoser, it's obviously… Haha. It's definitely known as the city of Canuckopolis City, D.C..."

"Dad… I know it's you."

"Okay, sure, whatever. Wait… How do I know that you're not one of Canada's kids? Huh? Well, what's your capital then?"

"Bismarck."

"Hahahaha! I knew it! You are one of Canada's!"

"Did you think I said Brunswick?"

"Heh. No." America said, scoffing. "I know who you are, South Dakota."

"I'm North Dakota."

"But you look just like South Dakota."

At that moment, another young man, nearly identical to North Dakota, walks up. "Did I hear my name?" the other Dakota asked.

"Yeah, Sou. Dad thought I was you."

"Hah. Really? Dad, you thought I was Nor? Really?"

"I didn't know there were two of you… I thought South Dakota just had dual personality disorder… Huh. Well, what did you two guys want?"

"I want to be the 39th State!" both Dakotas shouted out at once.

"Both of you? Really?"

"Yes. So I'm thirty-nine, right?" North Dakota asked, putting on his best pleading face, eyes widening.

"Well…"

"Come on. I'd make a much better thirty-ninth state. Besides, I'm older." South Dakota stated, smirking at his brother.

"Are not."

"Am too."

"No."

"Uh yeah, I think I'd know, Nor."

"I came first."

"Heck, no."

America, not in the mood for another conflict so soon after the _…war…_, did his best to stop the two from fighting. "Hey! Boys! Stop fighting, okay?! How about you both become one state, and we can refrain from any conflict, huh?"

"NO!" They shouted in unison, leaving America disappointed.

"Well, you know what? How about you two come in at the same time? Two states at once?"

"Even if you do that, one of us is still going to have to be admitted before the other…" South Dakota reminded.

"Whatever. Just… go please…I need a break from you kids. North Dakota can come first because he does alphabetically. South Dakota comes next. Happy?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Well, I don't care, guys. I'm sick of fighting. It's not worth it anymore. I've seen way too much blood lately. You two are lucky you're just new guys to this country…" America muttered, strangely bitter. The two Dakotas stared at him in surprise, both wondering what changed his attitude so quickly.

"Must have been some awful war, eh, Nor?"

"Yeah. No kidding."

XXXX

One hundred and twenty-three years later, soon after the state meeting, Colorado, Nevada, and several other western states were flying out to Denver, from where private jets would fly them to their homes. Colorado sits in her seat with her eyes shut. She tried but failed to fall asleep, no matter how tired she was. _Come on… I just want to sleep… I'm exhausted… Wait. Who just came in? _She opened her eyes and turned around to see Nevada walking into the cabin she, Utah and Arizona were in. She hadn't seen Nevada since he consoled her after Texas moved her to tears over a touchy subject. _I wonder if he'd like to hang out... I mean, he does seem to be a lot more contained than he used to be. I kinda like it when he's caring, not just making jokes and showing off his "swag"._

"Mormon, Siren," Nevada opens, addressing Utah and Arizona, to Utah's forced smile and a dirty look from Arizona. "Hey, Collie. How's it going?" Nevada continued, turning to Colorado.

"Um… fine I guess… You?"

"Fantastic."

"I'm good too…" mutters Utah.

"Well, I'm fan-freaking-tastic," sarcastically growls Arizona, who hates how much Nevada pokes fun at her. Never mind that she's just as irritating around him as he is with her.

"That's cool, Nevada! So, well, I was um… wondering if you wanted to hang out over the weekend. Snow is falling already on the Rockies and we could go skiing or snowboarding or whatever, and like it could be fun, and maybe we could get dinner and go hiking and stay up late and hang out and stuff." Colorado asks, rambling on, later cursing herself for being so long winded.

"Well, you see, California already invited me to go watch her at her acting job, so I'm busy this weekend. I'm sorry, Collie." Nevada tells her, not making eye contact, scratching his head. He looks around quickly, puts on a small smile, and briskly leaves the cabin.

"Oh… Okay…" Colorado responds, slightly upset. She turns to face the window and tries to hide her embarrassed and clearly blushing face from the other two states.

"Colorado, I'm sorry, but what the hell was that?" bluntly asks Arizona.

"Wh…what do you mean?"

"That wasn't very good…" quietly answers Utah, trying to not upset the Centennial State, like Arizona did.

"Well, what did I do badly?"

"Well, you uh made it really obvious you liked him. And then you suggested dinner and staying up late with him…"

"Was that bad?"

"Was that bad? Huh… I don't know… Mind if I tell you what I heard you say to him?" Arizona asked.

"No… Go ahead."

"Hey, Nevada! You're hot and I love you! Please please please go out with me and come up to my isolated mountain cabin, where we can do things at night, just me and you. The two of us doing stuff at night. Please?"

"Wow… Was it really that bad? If so, then I basically asked him to go out with me and have a two person party with me in the Rockies."

"Sounds about right," whispers a creeped out Utah.

"Ugh… That's really bad…"

XXXX

Meanwhile, on the beautiful Pennsylvania Turnpike out of D.C., Kentucky catches a ride with Illinois and Missouri in Illinois' car, a 2009 Ford Lincoln (get it? ;) I'm way too proud about this…) as they drive back home from the state meeting. Illinois and Kentucky ride in the front, listening to some hardcore bluegrass on the radio.

"Do they play anything but bluegrass here?" asks Illinois, sick of the genre after listening to it for a couple of hours.

"This is Appalachian Pennsylvania. I strongly doubt it." Missouri answered.

"I like it. It reminds me of home." Kentucky smiled, obviously enjoying the music.

"Eh… Jazz and the blues are where it's at." Illinois stated, loving the famous sounds of Chicago.

"Yeah, sure. If you say so." Kentucky muttered. "So, you guys, guess what?"

"What?"

"Chicken butt?"

"No, Missouri. Although I do like saying chicken butt… Anyways, yeah. Indiana and I, we're seeing each other now." Missouri's eyebrows raise and Illinois drops the Miles Davis C.D. he was about to put in. It cracks in half.

"You're doing what?" quietly asks Illinois, shocked and horrified at what he just heard.

"I'm seeing Indiana. Told her I liked her, and the rest will be history. Hehe."

"You're seeing Indiana… You're seeing Indiana…" Illinois rambles, looking as if he had suddenly aged several years. Missouri realizes what's going on, and he quickly reacts.

"Hey, I think your car is running out of gas, Illinois."

"What…? It is…? We…we…we need to refill it then….Indiana….Indiana…..no…." Illinois mutters, shaking his head. Kentucky, bewildered at what's happening with Illinois, begins playing with his fingers. Missouri pats the Prairie State on his back, signaling to him to stay cool.

XXXX

A few minutes later, the car pulls into the gas station, and Kentucky rapidly leaves the car and enters the rest stop, wanting to get out of the car as soon as possible. Missouri moves up into the front seat next to Illinois.

"Hey, man. Stay calm, okay?"

"Indiana… why is she dating him?"

"What does it matter to you…? You don't like her too, do you?"

Illinois paused for a moment before responding. "No, it's just that we're close friends, and I don't really like Kentucky."

"Really?"

"Really, Arch," sighed Illinois, using his nickname for Missouri, causing the Show Me State to chuckle.

"Whatever you say then."

"Yep. And you better believe it. Or else," Illinois threatened, a small smile emerging on his face.

"Or else what?"

"I'm gonna go all Valentine's Day of 29 on you."

"Yikes. Best I don't mess with you then."

"Best indeed."

"All right, Illinois. I need to go buy a soda. Don't know how much longer I can go without one."

"Okay." Illinois responded, smile fading. _Indiana…. _"Damn it… What did I do wrong…? I….I think I love that girl."

TO BE CONTINUED…

STATE BIO #13

SOUTH DAKOTA

Human Name: Dennis Theodore

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Brown

Personality Traits: Slightly annoying, offended easily

Pet: Coyote, Jack

Birthday: November 2nd

Original parent: America

Previous bosses: None

Closest friends: Minnesota, Iowa

Enemies: North Dakota (his bro)

Significant accessories: None

Hobbies: Hunting, farming, wandering the Black Hills

Favorite Music Genres: Native American music, western, blues

Favorite TV Show: My Secret Identity

Government Department: Food and Drug Administration


	14. Chapter 14: Christmas in Dixie

_Hey guys, Gormanbros here. Welcome back. Any reviews, comments, story ideas/requests, and any constructive criticism are very much appreciated. States, territories, D.C., Mexico and Conch Republic are mine, all other countries with and references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. Now, I'm sorry for this long break, I was busy over Christmas break, and I've been really tied up with school work and everything. Hope I've made up for it with this extra long chapter. Also, in case you haven't seen this yet, I have a personality quiz for Statalia that can be reached on my user page. Thanks for reading!_

CHAPTER 14: Christmas in Dixie

It's a dark and rainy night. December 24th. It's Christmas Eve, and America has gathered together with his children to celebrate the holidays. This year, Alabama's name was called as the host of the party. So far, only four states have yet arrived, being Alabama, Missouri, Hawaii and Minnesota. Missouri and Hawaii are currently chatting with each other.

"So. It's interesting that America gave Alabama the party again."

"Huh? Why?"

"Why? Oh… That's right. I don't think you were there last time. Well, you see, it was 1954, and Alabama was still being told to keep up the segregation by his governor. One look at the segregated drinking fountains, and America had a fit like you wouldn't believe."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It got bad… It reminded me almost of how dad was during the Civil War…"

"I've heard stories of him being really mad in the war, yeah."

"And after Rosa Parks, the riots and Selma, we thought that never again would America allow a Christmas party in the South. All the parties from '56 through '78 were in the Northeast, Midwest and West. Eventually, dad allowed Florida a party in '79, and it went fine, so parties are held in the South again."

"Wow. I had no idea.."

"Yeah…" suddenly, Minnesota came up from behind the other two states and put his arms around them.

"He-looo…" Minnesota mumbles.

Missouri sighs and shakes his head. "Are you already drunk, Minnesota?"

"Only had three…dranks…whoo…"

"Well, make sure to save some for the others when they get here. And let's not have a repeat of last year, okay?"

"Er… Yes-sisouree."

"Okay then…"

Meanwhile, in a back room, away from the other three states, Alabama is sitting in a chair, sweating slightly. _What if I somehow screw this up… Dad might hate me for good… I don't know if I can do this…_

XXXX

Over the course of the next hour, most of the rest of the states, as well as America, D.C. and Puerto Rico, arrived. This marks Puerto Rico's first time where she was invited, following a tantrum that occurred after the last party when she found out that D.C. was invited and not her. Puerto Rico and D.C. have been embroiled in a massive "race" to see which one becomes the 51st state.

Washington takes off his jacket and expensive sunglasses and quickly pulls his closest friend Oregon over to the side.

"What's wrong, Wash?"

"Nothing's wrong now. I just thought that you might like to be in on this with me," he suggested, pulling out a folded sheet of paper from his pocket, smirking. Oregon takes it from him, and she begins reading aloud.

"Christmas Cliché Checklist. Haha, brilliant. Let's see here, Christmas Carol retreading, someone dying, dysfunctional families, a homeless person, the police, Hanukah, parties, presents, Santa and snow."

"Pretty cool, eh?"

"Do you think all of this could happen tonight?"

"I'm not sure. You see here, a little secret, uh, I have been doing this for the past 14 years."

"And…?"

"Best I've gotten is 5 out of 10."

"Crap… Maybe this year we'll get more!"

"Fingers crossed."

The two walk turn around as they hear footsteps coming their way. Massachusetts was dressed in a white robe and had a fake mustache on.

"Dude, what the hell are you doing?" asked a freaked out Washington.

"Ah, young one. I am the Ghost of Christmas Past. I am here to remind you all of Christmases…past."

"Okay then…?"

"Yes… Blond one with the hipster vibe. Your past Christmases have been quite sad. You used to sit around growling at all Christmas advertisements and specials…"

"I guess so…"

"And to your friend, you've long held deep hidden regrets and fears that are buried in your heart, I see."

"Um... what? No. I have no deep secrets. No! Ah! Stop it!" Oregon shouted as she held her hands to her forehead.

"What am I doing?"

"You…you are BEWITCHING ME!" She shouted. Massachusetts, wide-eyed, a new look of complete horror now showing on his face, runs away, looking terrified. At the door, two more states, Montana wearing a red jacket and Alaska wearing a black robe stare at eachother.

"Guess we're done?"

"Da. Probably so." Alaska removes her hood and sets a menacing, blood stained scythe onto the table at the entrance, acting as if it was just a completely normal thing to walk around carrying a menacing, blood stained scythe.

"Guess there's the Christmas Carol Retreading. Check. 1/10," whispered a slightly confused Washington.

XXXX

Georgia looks around at her fellow states, and kept her eyes out for Alabama. _Where is that poor boy? America's enjoin' himself! There ain't no reason for him to be scared of his own party._

Meanwhile, Vermont is sitting at a table, holding back tears. Louisiana, who happened to walk up, stopped to ask the Green Mountain State what troubled him.

"I…I saw a body… Dead!"

"What? Who died?"

"My brand new friend! He was just a little defenseless spider! I feel so depressed about this!"

"Wait? He's a spider? You are crying about a spider? Idiot," she muttered before walking away.

~Someone Dying. Check. Also, while we're at it, they're at a party. Parties, Check. 3/10~

XXXX

Colorado is leaning against the wall, eating a map-shaped cookie of her own Colorado (basically just a rectangular cookie actually, when you think about it.), and chatting casually with Arizona.

"So, then he asked me if I was single, and I didn't know what to say, because he was seriously the hottest guy ever, and that's coming from me, the hottest state in the world. But then, I also saw another guy who was seriously the cutest guy ever, and it was tough." Arizona rambled, Colorado only half listening. Distracted, the Rocky Mountain State looked to the door to see Nevada dressed up as Santa. Not just any Santa however. This Santa was young, had stubble, wore a red and white tank top, and wore an expensive looking red and white fedora. Colorado, in shock, dropped her cookie, completely forgetting everything else. Arizona saw what Colorado was staring at, and smiled. I want to tell that Santa what he can give me for Christmas. Dang."

Nevada, always rather narcissistic and confident decided that he would come in not as Santa, but as Sexy Santa. He honestly enjoyed all the looks he was getting from the other states as he walked in late. Of course showing up late was all part of the plan. What better way to get attention than to be the last to arrive? He sat down, smirking, and asked, "So who wants to sit in Santa's lap and tell him what they want for Christmas?"

"Ew." "Boo!" "Disgusting." "Go Nevada, you player!"

California stepped up, smiling at Nevada. "Hey, Silver."

"Gold."

"Missed you, dude."

"It's only been a week, darlin'." Nevada answered, smiling as he reached in to quickly kiss the Golden State. Colorado looks on as her heart breaks, quickly followed by her knees falling just as quickly. Nevada hears Colorado fall from his seat, and his eyes went quickly between emotions, from surprise to fear to guilt, as he realizes what just happened.

"Colorado?" asked Arizona, concerned, failing to keep Colorado from tears. "Oh, Colorado… I'm so sorry."

~ Santa. Check. 4/10~

A good half hour or so after the Western Love Triangle incident, America had called everyone together for Christmas Eve Dinner. The nation sees Alabama carrying out silverware from the kitchen and he smiles. "Hi, Alabama! Dude, how are you?! I haven't seen you all party yet! You missed so much. First, that Russian chick came in all dressed as a grim reaper, then some French guy cried about a spider he more than likely stepped on, and then after that, Sexy Santa made out with some pretty blonde surfer girl which caused some other stunningly attractive girl to faint! And there was a cookie with my flag on it!"

"Wow. I'm glad you like my party, dad…"

"I can't wait for Secret Santa!" America cheerily called out, before turning to Iowa, who sat next to him. "Christmas is my favorite time of the year! When's your favorite time, Iowa?"

"Oh, so you actually remembered who I am this time?" the usually sweet Iowa muttered irritably.

"Grace," America quietly said, using the seldom used human name of one of his kids, usually reserved for private meetings and serious conversations. "Tell me what's wrong. Please?"

"What's happening on the 28th, dad?"

"Nothing, I don't think. Nothing ever happens after Christmas until New Years."

"YOU IDIOT! ONCE AGAIN, YOU FORGOT ABOUT MY BIRTHDAY, YOU JERK! YOU NEVER REMEMBER MY BIRTHDAY!" She shouted, blowing up for the first time in decades. The entire room went silent, watching, not a single muscle dared move. Even America became afraid as his normally happy Iowa became pissed off.

"I'm sorry!"

"You are my own father, damn it, and you still can't even bother to remember my birthday?! What the hell is wrong with you?"

~ Dysfunctional Families. Check. 5/10~

Meanwhile, Puerto Rico, feeling out of place, awkward and unsettled, decides it's best for her to leave. _The hell is wrong with mi padre y his other children. They're insane… Maybe it's for the best if I am homeless for Christmas Eve._

~ "Homeless" person seeing awkward family reunion and leaving. Check. 6/10~

Trying to ease the awkwardness, Maryland brings up other holidays. "You know what? I think that we should have parties for Hanukah and Kwanzaa too. You know, for diversity?" At that, a collective and very audible groan is heard among the states of the Bible Belt.

"No. Just no," scoffed Arkansas.

"What happened to you, Maryland? You used to be one of us," sighed Georgia.

"What? I still love Christmas! I just don't believe in secluding the other religions."

"Aw. You've gotten all liberal on us," muttered South Carolina, taking a bite of an orange that Florida gave her.

~ Hanukah. Check. 7/10~

After the meal, the states begin handing out the Secret Santa gift exchanges. Texas and North Carolina get each other barbequed meals, arguing over whether Texan steak or North Carolinian pork is better. New York gives Georgia a Yankees cap, which she accepts, albeit being somewhat disgusted, although, her gift of a calendar featuring scenes of Georgia to New York wasn't much better received. Arizona and Ohio both realize that they both "forgot" each others gifts at their home.

Michigan and Minnesota approach each other with bags. Minnesota at this point is even drunker, and Michigan can tell, reaching for his phone to take a picture of the wasted Minnesota. The two states hand over each others' bags awkwardly and open them. Michigan's gift is a t-shirt with the caption "MINNESOTA'S LAKES ARE BETTER THAN MICHIGAN'S". The gift Michigan bought for Minnesota is also a t-shirt, saying "I WISH I WAS COOL ENOUGH TO BE FROM MICHIGAN"

"Thanks for the shirt, Minnesota…" Michigan coolly stated, pulling it on over his polo shirt.

"Yep. Whatever."

Michigan looks over to and smiles at Wisconsin, who's wearing her new gift from California, gigantic sun-shaped earrings, who smiles back. They both end up laughing at the ridiculous gifts they received. Minnesota, seeing Michigan's glances to Wisconsin, steps up to Michigan, muttering to him, "I've got dibs, you decadent, lazy jobless thug. Don't even think about her." Michigan turned to glare at Minnesota, before looking down, and walking away. _I don't even have feelings for her. We're just friends. That asshole. I need to get back at Minnesota for that. No one calls me that and gets away with that._

Illinois, who is paired up, gift wise, with Indiana, has planned a big gift for the girl he loves but can't get. Going way over the $ 25.00 limit, he bought her a beautiful bouquet of peonies (her favorite flowers), and an expensive diamond necklace. He also wrote her a letter telling her how much he loved her. Not wanting the face to face tradeoff, he set the flowers and necklace box on the table where the gifts were held, and attached her name to the flowers. A few minutes later, as Indiana saw the gift, Illinois watched from behind Montana, who is honestly so accustomed to being used as a human wall that he doesn't really care anymore.

Indiana opened up the box and gasped. _Oh my god. Wow… Oh my… This is the most beautiful diamond necklace I've ever seen… Wow… Illinois… He went so far out of his way for this…_ In her shock, she failed to notice the letter attached to the flowers. Curious where he went, Indiana left the table to find the man who gave her the most beautiful necklace in the world.

Illinois, after she left, walked up to the flowers and took the letter, slipping it inside his coat pocket. _I'm not ready for that. Besides… She has a boyfriend…Kentucky…_

~ Presents. Check. 8/10~

Minnesota continues drinking. Michigan, searching for a way to get back at him, actually sides together with Ohio, his lifelong "arch nemesis" to take down Minnesota.

"So, what could we do to do this?"

"Way to be descriptive, Ohio…"

"Well, sorry, Wolverine."

"We should call the cops on him for his excessive drinking."

"Yes. Wow, Michigan. Your first good idea."

"Shut up."

"It's true."

XXXX

Meanwhile, America is sitting with Pennsylvania and Virginia, all three of whom are also starting to get drunk. Alabama walks up to America, his confidence increasing. "How are you doing dad?"

"Dude! This is the best Christmas ever! And the best early birthday to Iowa too!" America answered, shouting. Iowa perked up at this, beaming. Pennsylvania and Virginia cheer loudly as well, before laughing.

"Wow, Penn! I've never seen you laugh so much! Haha!"

"It is scaring me a bit, yeah. Haha…"

"Hey, can you walk me to my hotel? It's down the road a bit."

"Yeah, no problem."

"Great! Thanks! Bye, dad, Alabama." Virginia grinned. Pennsylvania and Virginia stand up, and Pennsylvania puts his hand around her as they walk out. They walked past New York, who stood awestruck at what he just witnessed.

Alabama reached in and hugged America, who, although surprised, is glad too. "I'm proud of you, Alabama. You throw one heck of a party."

"Thank you. Thank you for everything."

XXXX

It's midnight. As the states leave, Ohio and Michigan trick Minnesota into coming outside with the promise that Wisconsin was outside to see him. Hiding in the bushes, Ohio and Michigan watch as a police car pulls up and a couple of police officers walk up to Minnesota, handcuffing him for excessive drinking and threatening Michigan.

Hearing the police sirens, other states come out to see what happened, most shocked. Washington and Oregon both become really excited. 9 out of ten clichés have occurred all that was left is… Snow. And as if on cue, it begins snowing. Nobody knows exactly how this works, but it actually began snowing in Dixie. On Christmas Day. Washington and Oregon both cheer out in victory. All ten clichés happened.

Standing outside, watching Minnesota be escorted to a place for him to stay for the night, the remaining states look up at the snow falling.

"Merry Christmas, guys!" America cheered, before joining New York and Mississippi in singing Christmas carols. Underneath the doorframe, as Illinois watches the snow falling, he receives a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he sees Indiana smiling up at him wearing her new necklace. He tries to start talking to her, but before he has time to react, she leans up and they kiss.

TO BE CONTINUED…

STATE BIO #14

ALABAMA

Human Name: Hank Louis

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Blue

Personality Traits: Shy, struggles when it comes to voicing his opinion, soulful

Pet: Yellowhammer, Hunty

Birthday: December 14th

Original parent: Britain

Previous bosses: France, Spain, Britain, Confederacy

Closest friends: Mississippi, Arkansas, Tennessee

Enemies: Massachusetts, Illinois

Significant accessories: None

Hobbies: Playing football, singing, growing cotton, researching space and rockets, producing steel

Favorite Music Genres: Blues, country, gospel

Favorite TV Show: Any Day Now

Government Department: Department of Justice Civil Rights Division


	15. Chapter 15: Blue States

_Hey guys, Gormanbros here. Welcome back. Any reviews, comments, story ideas/requests, and any constructive criticism are very much appreciated. States, territories, D.C., Mexico and Conch Republic are mine, all other countries and references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. As you probably know by now, I have a personality quiz for Statalia that can be reached on my user page. Thanks for reading!_

_P.S., I'd like to say a couple things about the Christmas chapter. First, I forgot to add that Kentucky was not present at the party, leaving Indiana open to kiss Illinois without Kentucky knowing. Second, I realize now in retrospect that the gift giving I wrote about isn't really Secret Santa. :P_

CHAPTER 15: Blue States

6:00 in the morning on January 21st, 2013. Two men are sitting on an Acela Amtrak train riding from Wilmington, Delaware to Washington, D.C. Delaware and Illinois are casually chatting while watching the trees fly by.

"It was one crazy party, huh?" Delaware recalled, referring to the Christmas party Alabama hosted a few weeks prior.

"No kidding." Illinois chuckled, smiling, memories of his kiss with Indiana coming back.

_Underneath the doorframe, as Illinois watches the snow falling, he receives a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he sees Indiana smiling up at him wearing her new necklace. He tries to start talking to her, but before he has time to react, she leans up and they kiss._

"You okay there, Illinois?"

"Uh… Yeah. Fine. Sorry. I was just thinking about the party. So where are we sitting today for the inauguration?"

"Behind Obama, actually."

"Cool. Looks like we got good seats this time."

"I know, right? I'm glad we aren't watching from the distance like last time," Delaware recalled.

"Hah. One would think Obama's and Biden's home states would receive great seats for their first inauguration," Illinois chuckled.

"Well, Hawaii and Pennsylvania would disagree with us though."

"Fair enough, but really, Biden's a Delawarean."

"I don't know. I'd say that he's a lot more Scranton than he is anything like me and my people."

"Hm… I guess you're probably right. Well, Obama's a real Illinoisan, no doubt about that."

"Huh. Wait. What defines an Illinoisan?"

"Amazing."

"I see."

XXXX

An alarm begins blaring. It's 7:00 in the morning, to the dot. A semi-conscious hand reaches out and fumbles around with the clock, attempting to shut the blaring device off. Pennsylvania slowly manages to get himself out of bed, and reaches in the dark for his glasses. The Keystone State makes his way to the window, pulling back the curtains, looking outside at the already lively streets of Washington, D.C. Pennsylvania spent the night in the city, hoping that if he came early enough, he'd be able to arrive at his designated spot before huge crowds made the job difficult for him. _I mean, people might be able to recognize me as their home state, and I don't like talking to people… _

"It's a pretty city, isn't it?" remarked a voice from behind him.

Pennsylvania gasped, shocked that someone else was in the room with him. "Who… What the hell? Wh…Virginia? How did you get in here," stuttered Pennsylvania, confused on how Virginia managed to come into the room.

"I have my ways."

"Well, can you get out? I just woke up!"

"I suppose. But I thought we could spend time together. It's been weeks."

Pennsylvania frowned. _What's been weeks? Christmas… Oh crap. I don't remember anything from about an hour after dinner that night to waking up that next morning in a hotel room… Wait… Damn it to hell. I woke up next to Virginia, didn't I? _

"Penn? You okay?"

"We did stuff after Alabama's party, didn't we?"

"…Yes…?" Virginia slowly stated, wondering what Pennsylvania was going for. "Do you not remember?"

"No…"

"Well, you escorted me to my hotel room."

"Yes… And then…"

"You stayed,"

"Yes?"

"And we, you know…"

"Sh…" Pennsylvania muttered, slapping his hand to his forehead, before turning back to the street, where an even larger crowd formed, making it basically impossible for Pennsylvania to leave unnoticed.

XXXX

Meanwhile, Massachusetts has met up with Michigan to go eat breakfast at 8:00, before the inauguration. The two states are relieved, glad that Mitt Romney, born in Michigan and living in Massachusetts, didn't win the election, helping keep both of them in the clear with their Democratic friends. Neither state wanted to be blamed for any problem that could have potentially been caused by Romney. The two sit down, and begin glancing throughout the menu, both deciding on pancakes with bacon.

At the restaurant's entrance, California and Nevada walk in, California wearing several pieces of silver jewelry, and Nevada with a gold chain around his neck. The two see Michigan and Massachusetts, and they walk over to talk to them.

"Hey! Mass and Mich! Dudes, it's been like sooo long!" California chirped, eternally excited.

"Hello, California, Nevada," greeted Massachusetts.

"Are you here to eat breakfast before the inauguration as well?" Michigan asked.

"No, we're here for dinner after the Oscars," sarcastically responded Nevada, causing the Great Lakes State to roll his eyes. California and Nevada then pull over chairs to the small table, sitting down uninvited.

"So, Nevada, what do you love about me?"

"Girl, you're crazy gorgeous."

"Awww! You're so sweet! Isn't he sweet, you too?" California turned to the two other states. Michigan checks his phone uninterested, and Massachusetts shrugs. "What else do you like?"

"You…have money?"

"What else?"

"Um…"

"Damn it, Nevada! You hate me, don't you?"

"No."

"Why do you lie to me? Don't you care?"

"California, we go through this once a week. I don't hate you."

"Stop lying, jerk! I've had it! I am so done with you lying, dude! It's totally not awesome, okay?"

"I'm not interested in your accusations, girl."

"I'm so totally breaking up with you! I can't do this anymore! It's too much stupid drama!"

"You love drama, and you're bluffing."

"No, I'm not! I hate you, Nevada!"

"Maybe I should just leave!"

"I totally dare you!"

"Hah! You're being stupid, California!"

The Eureka State breaks down, crying. "I hate you, Nevada! I hate you so much!"

"What do you want me to say? That I hate you too?"

"You said you hate me?! How could you say such a thing? I love you! And you hate me!" California sobs, now holding her head in her hands. Nevada scoffs and crosses his arms, looking away. Michigan and Massachusetts glance at each other, wondering just what the hell they just witnessed.

XXXX

At 9:00 in the morning, Hawaii and Wisconsin start walking through the crowds to reach Florida, Ohio and Iowa, where they were all going to meet to watch the speech. Hawaii was extremely excited that her "beloved" Barack was getting his second inauguration. After the last inauguration's coldness, Hawaii realized that she should come extra prepared for this one. She borrowed a parka from Alaska, and then "bedazzled" the parka by attaching several flowers to it, making it seem as Hawaiian as a parka could get. The Aloha state noticed she was getting stared at quite a bit, but couldn't understand why. Wisconsin, on the other hand, knew exactly why people were staring, and couldn't help herself from sneakily reaching for her phone to snap a picture of the odd sight. As the two girls approach Florida, Ohio and Iowa, Wisconsin noticed her phone buzzing. _South Carolina? Why would she be calling me?_

"Hello?"

"Wisconsin?"

"Yes? What's wrong?"

"You traitor! You promised you would vote for Romney because you were Paul Ryan's home state! Well, why did you vote for Obama? Huh?"

"I found I agreed with Obama a little more. And, also, I never promised I'd vote Romney. I said I'd consider it. I'm sorry if you misunderstood."

"That's a big problem, damn it! I hate you for this, by the way. You and me? Not friends anymore, okay, witch?"

"We were never really friends in the first place, South Carolina."

While Wisconsin dealt with South Carolina, Florida listened on, wishing to get Wisconsin's attention. "Hey, Wisconsin?"

"Can you wait for a second, South Carolina? Yeah, I know you think I'm a brainwashed Marxist welfare queen," she turned away from her phone to Florida. "What is it?"

"Can I talk to South Carolina?"

"Yeah, sure. Hey, SC? Florida wants to talk to you. Goodbye. Love you too, girl." Wisconsin sighs, handing her phone to Florida.

"Hi, South Carolina~! How are you?" Florida's smile drops, and a tear forms, as Wisconsin begins to hear shouting coming from the phone.

In another part of the National Mall, Washington begins talking to Oregon about his woman problems.

"So, you see, I like this girl, we'll call her 'My person', and I strongly doubt she returns the feeling. I mean, it sucks."

"Oh, okay. Same with my person. I doubt he knows either. It's weird, because I love talking to him, and we always talk. Is your person like that too? Do you always talk to her?"

"No."

"Oh. I see." Oregon responds, looking down at the frozen grass.

XXXX

At about 10:00, below the Capitol Building, Maine, Maryland, New Mexico, Vermont and New Hampshire all are standing together, chatting. The inauguration is yet to start, but the five states are ready anyways. New Mexico notices a security guard standing nearby. He breaks away from the Northeast states to go talk to the man.

"Hola, Señor."

"Hello? New Mexico?"

"Tu recognize me? Es interesante."

"What is wrong?"

"Where are tu people hiding the aliens?"

The man simply stares blankly at New Mexico.

Meanwhile, at the Jefferson Memorial, Colorado and Connecticut stare up at the statue.

"Incredible man," Connecticut remarks, a faint smile on his lips as he looks at the third President. "Jefferson was America's leader for the classic liberal ideals. He was an anti-federal founding father that extended government powers to double the nation's size. An interesting and complicated figure that is impossible to truly understand."

"Wow. You must find him to be special, Connecticut."

"Yes, a truly unique man. I do rather enjoy viewing the memorials in the city."

"That's nice. How are you dealing with Sandy Hook, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Hm… A scar remains from the disaster. One does not heal easy from true disaster. Sorrow buried deep within lingers, slowly turning the dagger of pain whenever I dare forget. Colorado, I am a broken soul at this moment. I may smile externally, but that smile falters apart from such an exterior. Within, the smile becomes a frown. A certain melancholy exists. However, I must not stop smiling, for to stop smiling is to stop being alive. And to stop being alive, well, that is death, Colorado. And I am not yet ready to concede my spirit to the night. Therefore, I must keep pushing on."

"Wow." Colorado whispered, thoroughly impressed that Connecticut has the capacity to say such eloquent ideas at random. "You are one impressive person, Connecticut."

XXXX

It's 11:00. The Presidential motorcade makes its way down Pennsylvania Avenue. From the top of the Newseum building, New York, New Jersey, Rhode Island, Minnesota, and D.C. watch the car drive past. Suddenly, D.C. gasped.

"Wow! Look!" she exclaimed, pointing at the President's car.

"What is it?" New York asked.

"Obama's license plate! It's a "Taxation Without Representation" plate!" D.C. was excited, as the plate in particular she mentioned was a license plate made basically supporting D.C. statehood, using an old Revolutionary War slogan to refer to the fact that Washingtonians pay taxes as the rest of Americans do, yet receive no representatives or senators. Whenever somebody uses this plate, it signifies that they support statehood for the District. Until now, Obama hadn't used the plate, and now that he does, D.C. becomes ecstatic. Having the most powerful person in America support her does help her chances of becoming the next state.

"That's cool. Maybe you'll be the next state then!"

"Hope so! I'll get to beat Puert — I mean I'll get to vote then! Hehe."

XXXX

12:00 Noon. Barack Obama takes the podium to accept his second term as President of the United States. Behind him, Illinois, Delaware, and recently joined America all stand, watching history being made. Illinois makes eye contact with Obama, a proud look in the Prairie State's eyes as the President mouths a silent "thank you".

Delaware sees this, and smiles. _I love this country. I love everything we've accomplished here. We've struggled, been nearly torn apart—mustn't bring up the Civil War to America—and we've survived. I love this concept of the continuous succession of the forty-three men to take this office, and their victories, and how we can stand together like this. There's no one else like us._

TO BE CONTINUED…

STATE BIO #15

DELAWARE

Human Name: Edvard Rodney

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Blue

Personality Traits: Soft-spoken, quick-thinking, good businessman

Pet: His Blue Hen, Atlan

Birthday: December 7th

Original parent: Sweden

Previous bosses: Sweden, Britain

Closest friends: Pennsylvania, Maryland, Ohio

Enemies: Virginia

Significant accessories: None

Hobbies: Working with chemicals, raising chickens, doing business, helping with the air force occasionally

Favorite Music Genres: Classic, blues

Favorite TV Show: The Pretender

Government Department: U.S. Governors Association


	16. Chapter 16: Rough Waters

_Hey guys, Gormanbros here. Welcome back. So, I know this chapter is ten days after Valentine's Day, but I have a legitimate reason for this chapter being so off of the holiday (Unlike with Xmas in Dixie). With this chapter, I was working well on it, and was about three-quarters done on 2/12, when I had to go to the great state of Illinois for a family issue. So, between my leave, and homework, this chapter is up a little later than I intended. Any reviews, comments, story ideas/requests, and any constructive criticism are very much appreciated. States, territories, D.C., Mexico and Conch Republic are mine, all other countries and references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. As you probably know by now, I have a personality quiz for Statalia that can be reached on my user page. Thanks for reading!_

CHAPTER 16: Rough Waters

"What's the big deal with Valentine's Day anyways?" wonders Hawaii aloud. The sunny girl is lying back on her giant surfboard and watching the clouds drift by over the vast, inviting sea of blue above her. She has never 'dated' anyone before, and certainly never bothered trying. There was just too much life to live to want to bog it down with relationships. "Rejection by the one you love, hopelessly searching for a boyfriend, fights with your crush, I don't want to deal with all that stupidity. No way!" she told her little friend, Wailele the Humuhumunukunukuapua'a fish.

XXXX

On the mainland, Michigan has invited a handful of his closest friends to hang out in the Lake Michigan shore city of Grand Haven for the day. On the frozen beachfront, two friends are walking together. The man, Illinois, is anxious and confused. For the past month and a half, he has been thinking about his incredible kiss with Indiana on Christmas Night. He has called her, emailed her, Facebook messaged her, texted her and even wrote her a letter. _**~(Gasp! People still write letters?! No way?-CA)~ **_Despite his continuous attempts to talk with his favorite Hoosier, she has been silent, not responding to any of his messages. The stress from this has been throwing Illinois for a loop, and he's visiting one of his friends, Iowa, about his problems.

"So, help me here. You believe that Indiana is ignoring you?"

"Right."

"And why is she doing this?"

"It," he paused, hesitating. "It doesn't matter."

"Tell me, Illinois. We've been friends and neighbors a long time!"

"No, Caucus. I'm not telling you."

"Caucus? Is that really your nickname for me? Haha. Whatever. Anyways, come on, please tell me?"

"I'm not going to tell you!"

"Is there a problem between you and her?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

"Well, then, what's the problem?"

"Good question."

Iowa scoffed and rolled her eyes. "We can be difficult if we want to, Illinois. We don't have to be though!"

"I'd say we want to."

Iowa frowned, not liking how unresponsive Illinois is. She pulls out her phone to text another state about Illinois situation. The text read as follows:

_hey. Illini's being tough. Talk with Indy bout whts up, k? My guess, Illini luvs her. Awww So cute. –ia._

XXXX

Meanwhile, in a nearby restaurant, Michigan is sitting down with Indiana to eat lunch with her.

"Hey, thanks, Michigan. Lunch is great."

"It's no problem."

"Yeah, Kentucky didn't even wish me a 'Happy Valentine's Day' this morning," she sighed. "I don't even get it. One day, he goes all out, and the next, it's like I don't even exist to him!"

"Huh."

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this. Hahaha."

"I'm used to being dragged into things."

"Are you okay?"

"Of course."

"Hm…"

"I've been in a slump for at least six years now. Don't know why you are still so shocked that I'm not always like New York or California _**~(Gasp! Did somebody call me?!-CA)~**_ or America. Most don't have the stamina to be as out there as America."

"I guess you're right." Indiana responded, twirling her straw in her cup. She looks up as Michigan's cell vibrates. He picks it up and reads a text from Iowa, asking for him to find out from Indiana if she knew what was wrong with Illinois.

"Hey, Indiana?"

"Yes?"

"What's going on between you and Illinois?"

"Illinois? I don't want to talk about him right now."

"You sure? There seems to be a problem here."

"Okay, fine. You're one of my closest friends, Mich. You can know I guess. At Alabama's Christmas Party, Illinois and I, we kissed."

"Wow. Um… And Kentucky?"

"He wasn't there…"

"Illinois initiated it, didn't he?" Indiana looks away, and looks embarrassed. "Indiana… You have a boyfriend…"

"I know. But Illinois was being so sweet that night, and I just… I just…" she stops talking and hides her face. Michigan looks around, and pulls out his phone.

_They kissed. Indy started it. Shes avoiding him now in embarrassment and guilt. Kentucky seems 2 b treating her like crap. –Lakes._

XXXX

Iowa reads his text, and sighs. She feels someone standing directly behind her and panics. "Illinois, what are you doing?"

"Reading. Where's Indiana?"

"I don't know, at some restaurant? Why?"

"Three guesses, first two don't count."

"You want to talk to her, don't you?"

"Yep."

XXXX

"Indiana, look at me," Michigan asks, trying to help Indiana get back from her hiding position. "You have to decide, okay? Are you going to break with Kentucky and make Illinois happy? Are you going to tell Illinois to give up and make Kentucky happy?"

"What do you suggest?"

"What do I suggest? I suggest you do what makes you happy," Michigan told her, sincerely. He meets eyes with her. "Do what you really believe in, Indiana, okay? It's Valentine's Day. You should be happy, okay? This day is an important day for you to be happy. Iowa, Ohio, Missouri, Illinois, Kentucky, they all care about you. I care about you too." She stares back into his eyes, and doesn't break eye contact. Michigan's lips slightly rose, in an attempt by him to be supportive with a smile. She smiled back, with a smile naturally more genuine than the Great Lakes State's.

At this point, Illinois throws the door to the restaurant open and locates Indiana and Michigan within a matter of seconds. Michigan's half-smile fades and his eyes widen as Illinois walks towards them.

"Hello, Michigan. Indiana."

"Hello." Michigan responded.

"Hi," mumbled Indiana, deliberately looking away from Illinois.

"Indiana, can I talk to you for a minute?" Illinois asks before turning to Michigan and flicking his head towards the door. Michigan understands this and walks towards the door. _Indiana…what do you get yourself into?_, Michigan wonders to himself.

"What's going on?" Iowa breathlessly asks Michigan. She just managed to catch up to Illinois, who ran off towards the nearest restaurant upon finding Indiana's whereabouts.

"Hm…" Michigan responds, thinking too deeply to focus on Iowa's arrival.

Illinois starts off the conversation. "Where have you been for the last two months?"

"I'm sorry. I just couldn't face you after our kiss…"

"You're still with Kentucky?"

"Yes. I am still dating him."

"Indiana…"

"What? What do you want me to do? Stop dating someone just so that you can be happy? Why would I do that? Huh? I waited, damn it! What more do you want? I waited for years. And nothing. Nothing at all. You don't truly care; otherwise you wouldn't have put me through this! I'm done here. Happy Valentine's Day, Illinois. Thanks a lot," she ended, putting her coat back on and walking away, leaving Illinois speechless and devastated. Michigan tried calming her down, but she swatted his hand back, not wanting anyone to try and comfort her.

XXXX

A few hours later, Indiana sat in her hotel room watching television and eating Valentine's Day chocolate she picked up for herself at a chocolate shop she found nearby. She tried not to think about Illinois and Kentucky, but was unsuccessful. A knock on her hotel door didn't help either. She opened the door to find Kentucky standing there.

"Hey, Indiana. I heard you were here. Want to go get some food?"

The Hoosier State frowned. "Where were you all day? It's Valentine's Day! You're supposed to spend it with your girlfriend."

"Well, I am now, aren't I?"

"Then why do I feel like my presence to you today is an afterthought?"

"What are you suggesting?"

"That my theory was correct. I don't matter to you."

"What do you mean, don't matter? You matter a lot to me, girl!"

"I doubt that."

"C'mon. Let's go to the bar nearby to get some food."

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Okay. That's cool. Well, I'm going anyways."

Indiana's mouth opens in shock as her boyfriend leaves the hotel room without her. On Valentine's Day. _Today has been absolutely horrible. First I yelled at my best friend, and now my boyfriend just left without me again. I'm done with today._ She balls her hands into fists and falls down on her large king size hotel bed. Tears flow from her eyes as she hears her phone buzz. Wiping her eyes with her sleeve, she checks her phone to see who texted her. The text message read:  
_Just texting you to make sure youre ok. Happy v-day, Indiana. -Lakes._

TO BE CONTINUED… P.S., sorry for the lack of much humor lately. It's been really drama heavy, I know.

STATE BIO #16

HAWAII

Human Name: Leilani Buenpacifico

Hair Color: Dark brown

Eye Color: Brown

Personality Traits: Open, cheery, smiley, isolated, which makes her lonely.

Pet: Her Humuhumunukunukuapua'a, Wailele

Birthday: August 21st

Original parent: Unknown, she claims to be related to the Philippines, but is most likely traced back to islands in the South Pacific.

Previous bosses: Herself, Britain claims to have been in charge of her for a time

Closest friends: America, Rhode Island, everybody

Enemies: Japan (she holds a grudge over Pearl Harbor, but had mainly gotten over it after WWII

Significant accessories: None

Hobbies: Surfing, watching the stars, dancing,

Favorite Music Genres: Hawaiian music, Jawaiian, jazz

Favorite TV Show: Hawaii-Five-O

Government Department: Department of Veterans Affairs


	17. Chapter 17: Provintalia

_Hey guys, Gormanbros here. Welcome back. So, here's a very interesting chapter. I would say that this is at the same time, something familiar, and yet also something very different. You'll catch my drift in due time. Any reviews, comments, story ideas/requests, and any constructive criticism are very much appreciated. States, territories, D.C., Mexico and Conch Republic are mine, all other countries and references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. As you probably know by now, I have a personality quiz for Statalia that can be reached on my user page. Thanks for reading!_

CHAPTER 17: Provintalia

Montana sits down on a rock outcropping at Glacier National Park in the northern border of his state, and looks over at a friend of his walking over. That friend is one of Canada's thirteen children, Alberta.

"Howdy, Alberta."

"Good day, Montana."

"How are you doing?"

"Frustrated," sighed Alberta, sitting down next to Montana.

"Why's that?"

"I found out that I have been put in charge of planning Canada's birthday party this year."

"That sounds cool. Why is that bad?"

"Hah. Because of what happened last year…"

"Go ahead then, tell."

"It's a long story."

"I have a lot of time."

"Man, I hate when people say that."

XXXX

Late June, 2012. Canada's birthday is coming up on July 1st. The Provinces and Territories of Canada gather together to discuss the most important issue in the world to them at the moment: What to do for Canada's birthday. At Manitoba's house in Winnipeg, Manitoba, the chair of this year's party, sits down, wondering what to do. Manitoba, wearing his favorite bunny hug (sweatshirt in real talk), hears a knock on the door. He opens it to see his newest sister, Nunavut. Nunavut is physically still the age of maybe a five-year old, and has a round face, dark hair and an overall bashful demeanor about her. "Hello, Manitoba, it is me, Nuna!"

"Gah... Why are you so small and weird? The neighbors, they could be listening to us! What would they think if they found out that their neighbor was actually their Province personified? Quite sure they are still wondering why my name comes up as Man I. Toba in the phone book. Whatever… Come on inside to my sitting room, little girl."

Nunavut looks down at her shoes as she walks in. _Sometimes I have a really hard time understanding Manny's rants… I thought that the people usually knew about their Provinces… Well, whatever it is, he does act funny._

"What? Nunavut? What is wrong? Why are you just staring downwards?"

"Oh, no worries, Manitoba. So, Canada's birthday party should be a themed party. Hmmmm," She ponders, looking down at her petite, gloved hands. Suddenly, she looks up at Manitoba; face brightened, and blurts out her idea. "I know! It should be a Captain Canuck themed party! That's a cool idea, isn't it, Manitoba? Isn't it?"

"A Captain Canuck themed party? Hm… Would it be possible, though? None of the Provinces have ever planned a Captain Canuck themed party before. It's pretty unlikely that we could get the money, food and supplies needed for a Captain Canuck themed party too. At least pretty unlikely by ourselves. Now, if we can get the help of the other colonies though…"

"We could ask them!"

"It's possible, yes. So, new territory. Who do you suggest we go to first?"

"Hm… Would it not be smart to just have everyone together here?"

"No, not like my neighbors are considering me crazy or anything…" Manitoba rolls his eyes, being sarcastic.

"Okay, cool!"

After sending out an email blast, the ten Provinces and three territories all gathered together at Manitoba's place. After anyone was seated and quieted down, Manitoba stood up from his chair to speak out to his siblings. Well, at least eleven of them. British Columbia (BC) wasn't there yet for whatever reason… "Hello. I am guessing all of you are wondering why I called you here. I personally have come up with the plan that all of us will put money towards giving dad a Captain Canuck themed birthday party." At that, Nunavut looked surprised and hurt, as it was actually her idea in the first place. "Who's with me?"

"Wasn't this your job? I believe that I am above this, just fyi." responded Ontario, always concerned about himself first. Ontario is charismatic, mostly likeable, and always taking charge. He is by and large the most influential of the Provinces, holding the country's largest population, economy and share of representatives in Parliament. He knows this, and loves milking it for all it's worth. Physically, Ontario is really similar to Canada himself, albeit slightly shorter and thinner. He even sports glasses of a similar design as his dad's.

"You don't want to help us?" asked Manitoba.

"Well, I can prolly help, but in all seriousness, my help would make this party too amazing, eh, Alberta?" Ontario finished, turning to his "bff" Alberta.

"Shut up, man. Stop the act. You're not perfect, and you don't help the way you think you do," scowled Alberta. Alberta is an easily amused and even more easily offended Province. He is a romantic image of the western horseback Mountie, and yet at the same time, a rich, cunning oil entrepreneur. So, basically, Alberta is a slightly more laid back, Canadiafied clone of Texas. He continues speaking. "So, back to reality, just leave it up to me to plan this party out, okay folks?"

"Alberta," quietly spoke Saskatchewan, a quiet, peaceful Province who has somewhat of an identity crisis. Saskatchewan thinks of himself to be bland and forgettable, and finds it difficult to paint himself as a particularly interesting Province. The Atlantic Provinces forget of his existence, Quebec and Ontario don't pay attention to anyone west of them; Manitoba and Alberta leave him out of their conversations from time to time, the territories look up to the other Prairie Provinces more than they do him, and British Columbia usually just writes Saskatchewan off as a country bumpkin.

"What?"

"Well, after criticizing Ontario's self centered qualities, you showed a self-centered side yourself."

"Well, that is perfectly normal and called for, so I don't know what you're complaining about, hoser."

"Excusez-moi, and I am so sorry for interrupting this uh gem of a conversation, as it were, but I have noticed the absence of British Columbia. Uh, where is she?" asks Quebec. Quebec is a unique Province, in more ways than one. Obviously, Quebec has a French background, and speaks French as a primary language, unique among all of Canada and America's kids. Quebec has an independent streak, and has attempted to achieve sovereignty from time to time, always failing. Character wise, he's relatively mean and unlikeable, but for those willing to put time into being friends with him, he warms up. Quebec has a difficult relationship with his longest running and most storied sibling, Ontario, and the two have a love-hate rivalry, which had culminated in the Quebecois independence movement of the eighties and nineties.

"Please. It is far much better without her. Now to lose Alberta..." mutters Northwest Territories, a forgettable, lonely territory in northern Canada. Even more so than Saskatchewan, Northwest Territories, or NWT as she sometimes goes by, suffers from lack of an identity. NWT finds herself less important than the ten Provinces, less intriguing than Inuit Nunavut, and less storied than gold rush Yukon. NWT has a tendency to be cold and unfriendly as well.

"What's that, ice queen?" retorted Alberta, always offended.

"Why do you even use that name? Nunavut is colder than I am."

"No I'm not! I'm not mean and a little scary like you, sister!" Nunavut whined. Nunavut was once under the control of NWT, until she became her own territory in the nineties. NWT responded by sticking her tongue out at her little sister. Nunavut acted like she didn't see that when she remembered the entire reason the meeting was being held in the first place. "Everybody, it was my idea to have a Captain Canuck themed party, not Manitoba's." said Delaware, sitting up in his chair.

"It would not be the first time he stole an idea from one of us…" Quebec muttered, scoffing.

"What do you mean by that?! Now, you have all been off topic! Back to the party planning!"

"Hey, this could be fun! Everybody working together to make a nice party for daddy!" exclaimed Prince Edward Island. Prince Edward Island, despite what the name might lead people to think, is a girl, and she has to hide her embarrassment over having her name be Prince Edward-anything. She's not even absolutely sure who Prince Edward is, but she hopes he's a nice fellow, considering she's named after him and everything. Personality wise, she's pretty happy, and doesn't care all that much that she's relatively trivial when it comes to politics, economics and population in Canada. She absolutely loves the stories of Anne of Green Gables, and loves boasting that Anne is part of her culture.

"Yes… Let us all listen to the island-bound farm girl with the boy's name," sneered NWT.

"Now come on, Northwest, it's not cool to mess with Prince Edward, eh?" said Ontario.

"Oh, Ontario, you imbecile. While you claim it is not cool to mess with her, you still manage to er, mess with everyone," muttered Quebec.

"People should do what I say. Screw what I do."

"Hah."

"Haha."

"Hahaha."

"Hahahaha."

"Stop ze one-upping me, you idiot!" shouted Quebec, getting irritated.

"Well, you should make sure to be kind and respectful to all the Atlantic Provinces!" called out Nova Scotia, not wanting to hear any more bickering between Ontario and Quebec. Nova Scotia has a unique atmosphere about him, from his spiky, vibrant red hair, unusual height, and his wearing of kilts. Nova Scotia loves playing music more than anything else, and has close ties with Scotland.

"He does actually have a point," added New Brunswick. New Brunswick didn't particularly stand out, but to be honest, she preferred it that way. She spends a lot of her time working on boats, logging and fishing. New Brunswick has Canada's second largest French speaking population with her Acadian background, and therefore is close friends with neighboring Quebec.

"Yeah, yeah. Without the Atlantics we'd fail instantly…Whatever," quietly complained NWT.

"Hello, wah bout me? Luh at me, sons and loves. I'm an Atlantic Province, too!" called out Newfoundland in his unique Newfoundland English accent. Newfoundland is an isolated Province of Canada, living on an island off the coast of the mainland well into the Atlantic Ocean. He isn't a Province by himself, however. He shares his title with his mainland young brother, Labrador, who doesn't have enough of a population to be his own Province. Because he has more people, Newfoundland represents the duo himself, which Labrador silently is frustrated by. Personality wise, Newfoundland considers himself unique and alone in the country, being his own separate "country" in the British Empire up until the middle of the Twentieth Century. Newfoundland suffers through mild depression, as his primary industry, fishing, is declining.

"Hm…" pondered New Brunswick.

"Were you not declaring yourself your own region of Canada? Why are you now Atlantic?" asked Quebec.

"I can be both if I want… Oh me nerves… Don't have the patience to listen to this righ' now," sighed Newfoundland.

At that moment, British Columbia pops in the door, not even bothering to knock. "I'm here, everyone! Did you all miss me?" British Columbia, or BC, as she's also known, is an optimistic, friendly, and worldly Province, boasting a diverse population, liberal and green viewpoints, and beautiful mountain landscapes lining her favorite city in the world, Vancouver. She's friends with Washington and Oregon, and together, the three of them have been considering the dream of if by some situation, the United States and Canada were to fall apart, the three of them would join together (maybe with Alaska, Yukon and California as well) and create a nation of Cascadia, but that is mainly just a cool theoretical dream (for the most part).

"Hey, Yukon. You've been awfully quiet, you know," brought up Saskatchewan, looking over at the blonde territory sitting next to him.

"Wh…wha? I'm sorry, I zoned out. What's going on?" asked Yukon Territory. Better and more seamlessly known as Yukon, she is a territory of Canada located in the northwest corner of the country. Much to the disdain of NWT, Yukon is even more northwest than the Northwest Territories. Yukon has a history with gold rushes, and shares much of her history with her neighbor, Alaska. Not necessarily the Russian aspect, but the mining, frontier and military history (Alcan Highway), they share.

"Really, Yukon?" asks Alberta. "We are all trying our damn best to plan dad's birthday party, and you spend this important and valuable time sleeping?"

"I'm sorry, I guess?"

"Hah. I'm so sure you are."

"Why do you care so much?" asks Ontario.

"Because, King Ontario I! Unlike you, I have to work for the things I want!"

"And do you seriously want this party?"

"Well, not particularly, but since you ask me, hell yeah I do!"

"You both are idiots!" adds Quebec.

"I know, right?" agrees BC, trying to get on Quebec's bright side.

"Stop trying to be friends with me! I do not want forced friendships, even if you are my sister!"

"Well, sorry for trying to be friends…"

"Hah."

As Alberta and Ontario face off, BC and Quebec both begin the same. All of a sudden, as if on cue, the four of them stand up, walk outside to the front yard and make a circle. Ontario slowly raises his right hand, makes the gun hand, and points it at Quebec. Quebec raises his left hand to Ontario, and his right to BC. BC raises her left at Quebec, and her right at Alberta. Alberta raises his left at BC, and his right at Ontario and Ontario ends the standoff circle by raising his left hand up to Alberta. From the front window, the remaining nine Provinces and Territories watch silently, amazed at the ridiculousness of the quartet outside.

"So, Captain Canuck," started up Manitoba.

TO BE CONTINUED… _P.S.- Hope you guys don't mind this. I'm not changing the focus off of the states, but the Provinces will show up from time to time too._

STATE BIO #17

MONTANA

Human Name: Milton Custer

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Sky-Blue

Personality Traits: Quiet, rough, hard-working

Pet: Grizzly Bear, named Ursus

Birthday: November 8th

Original parent: America

Previous bosses: None

Closest friends: Idaho, Wyoming, Alberta

Enemies: Washington

Significant accessories: His cowboy hat

Hobbies: Ranching, mineral mining, logging, wandering parks, wheat farming, shooting things

Favorite Music Genres: Native American music, western, country

Favorite TV Show: Buckskin

Government Department: Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives


	18. Chapter 18: Damn it, Michigan

_Hey guys, Gormanbros here. Welcome back. So, I've been extremely busy this past month. Any reviews, comments, story ideas/requests, and any constructive criticism are very much appreciated. States, Provinces, Territories, D.C., Mexico and Conch Republic are mine, all other countries and references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. As you probably know by now, I have a personality quiz for Statalia that can be reached on my user page. Thanks for reading!_

CHAPTER 18: Damn it, Michigan

Spring has finally sprung in the Midwest, and the Great Lakes states are finally recovering from their seasonal affective disorder. Well, all but Michigan. That's a little deeper than a seasonal problem. Ohio, stretching out his arms and legs from a car ride up from Columbus, looks out on the Maumee River in the city of Toledo. _Glad this is all mine,_ he thought to himself, smiling. _Nothing could ruin this day. _But Ohio thought too soon. All of a sudden, he feels a finger poking his shoulder. Turning around, Ohio sees a man staring straight at him. Looking down from the guy's face, Ohio notices what's on his sweatshirt. A great big navy blue "M". _Damn it, Michigan. This guy's from the University of Michigan. I don't like those people. I don't like them at all._

"Excuse me."

"Yeah? What?" Ohio asked, sounding a bit ruder than he probably intended.

"Well, I just want to know where the Toledo Zoo is. You see, my wife and kids and I, we wanted to see if the Toledo Zoo was really that worse than the Detroit Zoo," the man answered, chuckling slightly. Ohio responded to the man by walking away, scowling. _It's always been crap dealing with Michigan…_

XXXX

It was January of 1835. America was spreading his territory further and further west. He had already taken land from Britain, scammed France into selling him a gigantic territory, and is planning on taking land from Mexico and Spain in the future. In the state of Ohio, the effects and success of the Erie Canal are pronounced and strong. The Canal allows for cities to grow up around the Great Lakes, including that place Happy Days was set in, Oprahland, and that city New York forgets about that's named after some big furry thing. On the yet to be defined border between Michigan's home and Ohio's home, a new port town with a lot of promise that never really achieved greatness is growing. The port town is Toledo, and Michigan and Ohio both are enchanted at the idea of owning it.

Ohio woke up one morning to a knock at his door. Groggily, he answered the door to a bright, youthful young man.

"H…hello?" asked Ohio.

"Hi. I'm Michigan Territory. I'm introducing myself to you. Hello." He awkwardly said before proceeding to extend his hand for a handshake.

"Welcome to Columbus. I'm Ohio."

"I'm Michigan."

"Er… I know that already."

"Okay, well that's pleasant then. So, I wanted to thank you for something."

"What?"

_AND IT ALL WENT DOWNHILL FROM THERE._

"For letting me have Toledo, of course! Thanks to your generous offering of Toledo, I can have a boosted start into maybe becoming my own state, and that means a lot to me."

"Wait, what do you mean, give up Toledo?" Ohio asked, confused. Michigan slightly tilted his head, a sign of confusion.

"You let me have Toledo… I know you did…"

"Who told you that?"

"America."

"What? He did? Why? When? What?"

"Well, I came here from D.C. When I was there, I met with America. Now, sure he seemed distracted, and maybe a bit tipsy, but he said, 'Yeah dude, sure whatever. Have all the Toledoes you want, man. Have a bajillion zillion zillion Toledoes.'"

"Damn it, America!"

"Well, it's still okay if I have Toledo, right?"

"No!" Ohio shouted. "Are you kidding me?! My people's future lies in Toledo! It will become the foundation of my ascension to demigod status! It will allow me to overtake the other states and become the greatest, most influential state in the nation! Haha!" Ohio gleefully explained, grinning from ear to ear.

"Well, if I have Toledo, then I can rise to statehood! I absolutely need that future world capital in my state! I believe 110% that Toledo will be the modern equivalent of Rome! It will be my London!"

"Get out."

"Get out of what?"

"My state. Get off my land."

"Okay, I'll be going back to my city of Toledo. Bye then, Ohio!" Michigan called out, walking away.

XXXX

Two months later, on a Sunday morning in March, Ohio decided to visit Toledo. He wasn't worried about Michigan being there, as he never took the territory very seriously. Ohio had gotten off of his carriage, and begun walking down the road. He looked over and saw a woman breastfeeding her baby.

"Hey, woman! What are you doing?"

"Breastfeeding my child? Why do you ask?"

"That is illegal, you know!" Ohio whined, offended. His shock was only heightened when he saw police officers approach the woman and arrest her.

"Wait! What are you doing! It is illegal to arrest somebody on a Sunday!" he called out, unheard. Panicking, he ran towards the riverside, where he saw two people dueling. One was a woman wearing leather shoes, and the other a cross-dressing man leaning against the wall. On the other side of the open area was a corn flakes vendor, a man parading geese and cows down the road, a nude woman posing for a picture holding a drunken fish, and a dog-biting policeman wearing roller skates and ignoring an escaped tiger that is desecrating City Hall. A few feet away from the drunken fish nudist woman were a party of six women who talked about their shared home while fishing for whales in the Maumee River. "What the hell is going on here?!" Ohio shouted, watching in horror as the entire city was breaking his laws. All of a sudden, the Buckeye State felt a hand on his right shoulder.

"Pretty great, isn't it, Ohio?" asked a contented Michigan, gazing out at the scene before them. At that moment, Ohio realized what was going on. Michigan had deliberately staged this so that everybody in town was breaking Ohio law.

"You smart bastard."

"I am quite brilliant, aren't I?"

"Damn it, Michigan!" Ohio scowled, freed his shoulder from Michigan's hand, and marched his way up to a hill, where he knew the entirety of the law-breaking body could hear him.

"Hello, fellow Ohioans. Allow me to introduce myself. I am your leader, Neil," Ohio called out, voice booming. He used his human name, Neil, as to not cause confusion among the populace. "I am sad to say that all of you are breaking Ohio State Laws. To the woman posing nude with a drunken fish, I ask, why? Be honest to your self. What in the world are you accomplishing with that? To the tiger currently ransacking the court house, how the hell did you get here? Like, no, seriously guys. How is there a tiger here?"

"Why are you speaking to us?" called out the corn flakes vendor.

"Yeah, just leave us alone, loser!" cried one of the whale fisherwomen, still leaving her flimsy wooden fishing rod in the water.

"Just let us stay Michiganders!" scowled the parade guy.

"No! I shall not allow Toledo to fall to the red curtain of Michigan!"

Michigan walked up to Ohio and told him, "Just please give it up, man. The people have spoken."

"Damn it, Michigan! No! I shall not! Robert!" Ohio shouted to a man standing behind him.

"Y...yes sir?"

"Bring in the Ohio State Troops. Now. This is war."

"Are you sure, sir?"

"Did you hear me, Robert?! Now!" Ohio bellowed, not realizing that Michigan was quietly telling a man next to him to "Organize every able bodied men and every gun you can find up north."

XXXX

Within a few days, the Ohio and Michigan militias were both present, and, having received word of the military standoff, America, D.C. and two other states, Pennsylvania and Maryland, have arrived to attempt peace talks. On the deck of a fishing boat in Toledo, the five bodies (D.C. was brought as America's aide, much to her disappointment) have all sat down and are discussing the problems at hand.

"So, Michigan, Ohio, dudes! C'mon, man! Couldn't we have like solved this all in a chess tournament?" America asked, reaching for one of the fried chicken platters he had D.C. prepare for him for the meeting.

"No, dad. You see, Michigan insulted me continuously." Ohio insisted.

"Did not."

"Damn it, Michigan! Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did-" Michigan started, only to be cut off by Pennsylvania.

"Shut up, you jagoffs! You both are about utter idiots, I swear, I am going to knock you both out and ship you to China if you don't stop!" Pennsylvania threatened, making both Ohio and Michigan wide eyed and silenced.

"Kay, now, Penn, hon, I don't know if you're even helping at all here. I mean, look at how you scared the boys."

"I'm not scared!" Michigan retorted.

"Boy? I have a larger population than you do, Maryland!"

The Ohio/Michigan fighting spread like a disease to Pennsylvania and Maryland who were also starting to get frustrated. All this happened of course, as America ate chicken ravenously and D.C. waited on her dad.

XXXX

The peace talks failed. Maryland, Pennsylvania, D.C. and America left Toledo, giving up on the feuding lands. Now, both Michigan and Ohio are meeting at noon the next day in front of city hall.

"So, when should I send my troops to destroy you?" Ohio asked.

"Hm… Five in the evening is when my brave men will claim Toledo once and for all."

"One."

"Four."

"Two."

"Three."

"Two-thirty.

"Two-thirty one."

"Damn it, Michigan…" Ohio grumbled, pausing for a few seconds before responding, "Two-thirty and thirty seconds."

"Deal."

"Deal."

At two twenty, Ohio and Michigan have separately decided to put on face paint, the kind sports fans put on their cheeks at a game. Of course, Ohio's paint is scarlet and gray, and Michigan's Maize and Blue.

Two thirty and thirty seconds. The Territory of Michigan and the State of Ohio charge at each other, as do their armies. Lightning strikes. Fire breaks out over the Maumee River, in true Ohio fashion. Within seconds, however, Michigan reaches Ohio and shoves him to the ground. Yet, much to Michigan's surprise, Ohio was able to trip him right as he was falling to the earth. Both are on the ground, in extremely mild pain. Ohio, much to his luck, was able to stand up before his foe could, and, back on his feet, steps on top of Michigan, causing the Great Lakes territory to yelp, and declares to the confused soldiers, "Ohio wins! Ohio wins! Toledo is mine! Hahaha!"

From off in the distance, Britain sat in a chair, with tea and scones, and watched on at the Toledo War, unnoticed by anyone, and slowly raised his eyebrow at Ohio's actions. _Damn it. I was quite looking forward to watching that bloody wanker America's kids destroy themselves. Hm… Perhaps in the future I'll get to watch this "Great Experiment" falter…_

TO BE CONTINUED…

STATE BIO #18

OHIO

Human Name: Neil Garfield

Hair Color: Blond

Eye Color: Blue

Personality Traits: Witty and with a flashing smile, and popular with the ladies. Can be dull at times, doesn't stand out from his siblings

Pet: White-tailed Deer, Borey

Birthday: March 1st

Original parent: France

Previous bosses: France, Britain

Closest friends: Pennsylvania, Indiana, Delaware, Kentucky, Iowa

Enemies: Michigan

Significant accessories: None

Hobbies: Playing football, riding roller coasters, soap box racing, growing tomatoes

Favorite Music Genres: Rock, funk, classical

Favorite TV Show: Glee (Don't tell Michigan. He'll make fun of me for ages over it)

Government Department: United States Air Force


	19. Chapter 19: Breaking Point

_Hey guys, Gormanbros here. Welcome back. Any reviews, comments, story ideas/requests, and any constructive criticism are very much appreciated. States, Provinces, Territories, D.C., Mexico and Conch Republic are mine, all other countries and references to Hetalia are Hidekazu Himaruya's. As you probably know by now, I have a personality quiz for Statalia that can be reached on my user page. Thanks for reading!_

_P.S. ~ I've decided to do something kinda fun with this chapter. I want to ask you guys to guess what state I'm from, and post it in a review. Ill let you guess two states in a single review, and if you can guess which state I'm from, I'll give you a shout out in the following chapter._

CHAPTER 19: Breaking Point

California was standing at the door to her massive, multi-million dollar home. She pulled out her blindingly white purse and, after some difficulty, was able to locate the key to her house. Upon opening the door, she was welcomed the same way she always was-by a vast checkered-floor foyer showcasing a large painting of the Golden Gate Bridge at sunset. Smiling, California remembered back to when that beloved scarlet bridge was constructed back during the Great Depression.

"That time was depressing…" she reminisced to herself. "So much Oklahoma… Never again… Please…"

Walking up the staircase and to her left, she entered the library. California didn't read actual books too often. Her library is about three-quarters comics, scripts, screenplays, and diaries, and the remaining quarter are actual novels and factual books. The Golden State found herself wandering towards a wall of multi-colored diaries. She grabbed a stack of them to find one to read, for there was nothing better to read in California's mind than your own thoughts. She skimmed through the diaries, and found the day she wanted by whichever picture she attached to the page. She saw several memories of her life flash through the pages. One picture that caught her eye was a grainy, ancient photograph showing her collapsed on the floor that was marked 4/18/06. "Dude, that was so not cool…" California muttered, again to nobody in particular. Another picture featured her wearing a Marine uniform from World War II.

Finally, after much deliberation, California started reading the entry that followed a picture of her holding a signed DVD box of _The Terminator_.

Entry from October 7th, 2003: _Heyyy, diary. It's me, California again. Miss me? I'm sure you have. Oh, that's sooo kind of you! Squee! I love you too, diary. You're sooo nice to me! So, like today I voted on whether to recall Gov Gray or not… I wasn't sure, and like, the only time anyone ever recalled their Gov was when one of the boorrring Dakotas did it like eighty years ago! So like I didn't know if the other states would think I was weird… _

_But then, I like remembered that I'm the Best and most Beautiful State, so like nobody would like ever criticize me and get away with it, because, like that's sooo stupid of them, and like I don't know why they would even think they were all that or stuff._

_So, yeah, I like went ahead and voted like yes on recalling Gray, and I like don't feel all that bad, you know. I mean, like he wasn't even that cool. All he like did was like, be all like mean to people and stuff, so not cool, dude._

_So now, I'm like not completely sure who I should vote for now. OMG one of the guys running is Arnold Schwarzenegger! He's like Conan and the Terminator! Squee he's sooo cool and buff! I like soo think he'd be sooo cool to vote for!_

Entry from October 8th, 2003: _Heyyy diary, It's meee again! How are you, diary? I love California too! That's like sooo cool! So, yeah, like today I like met with Arnold and talked with him. The conversation, like went kinda like this:_

"_Hi!"_

"_Hello"_

"_Like, how are you, Mr. Arnold?"_

"I am doing just fine. Who are you?"

"I'm Ca…Angelina Mulholland. I'm like one of the voters in this like election."

"That is good. Voting is a good right to utilize."

"_Yeah… So like, why should I vote for you?"_

"_I want to help Cahlifohnia the way I know how."_

"_Cool! I like loooove it when people help me!"_

"What?"

"_I mean, help my state! Yeah."_

"_All right. Well, a vote for me is a vote well spent."_

"One question."

"_Yes?"_

"Do you, like have had any affairs or secret scandals or kids with like mistresses or anything?"

"Um… No, of course not… Why would you think that?"

"I won't tell, dude. Have you?"

"…Yes…"

"_Cool. You're right at home here in California, dude!"_

XXXX

Meanwhile, as California reminisces of her election of the Governator, a high profile meeting is just minutes away in downtown Chicago. Missouri and Illinois are inside the building, and making their way to the meeting.

"So, Illinois, can you help me make sense of this?"

"Sure. What don't you get?"

"Well, why did New Jersey want to meet with you?"

"I really don't know. He said it was important and that it needed to be a one on one meeting, just me and him."

"A one on one with New Jersey?"

"Yes…"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"He was quite adamant."

"Okay then, Illinois," Missouri sighed. "Just remember I'll be right outside, okay?"

"Yep."

The two states reached the meeting room, and shook hands. Illinois entered the room, and Missouri walked over to a cluster of chairs nearby, where he sat down, pulled out his phone to type something, and then put it away to start reading _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_ for the one-hundred twenty-eighth time.

Illinois steps into the room and looks around. On the plain gray walls, black and white photographs of the beautiful, iconic Chicago skyline are everywhere. A couple bland fake plants sit in the corner of the room. In the middle of this monotone meeting room is an equally dull gray table with two chairs, one of which is occupied by New Jersey, smiling up at Illinois.

"Hello, Illinois."

"New Jersey."

"I ain't new. How you doing, man?"

"Why did you want to meet with me?"

"Well, Illinois, it's just," New Jersey paused. "Ya know, been a little while since we talked."

"I suppose it has. But that isn't a reason to start a meeting, New Jersey. What is your real reason for wanting to meet with me?"

"Reconciliation. I say, you and me, we start anew. Friends. Ya know?"

"Why's that?"

"I feel bad for our fights."

Illinois frowned, confused at New Jersey's actions. Meanwhile, back outside the room, Missouri is enjoying his peaceful reading time when he hears footsteps rush towards him. He looks up to see Indiana looking slightly off.

"Indiana, what? Why are you here?"

"I saw your tweet. Why is New Jersey wanting to meet with Illinois?"

"Reckon I don't know."

"Huh… I'm worried. New Jersey and Illinois, well, they haven't exactly been the best of friends, now have they?"

"No, not really. I'm staying here for a reason."

"I'll stay too," Indiana told him, concerned about Illinois' safety. "I'm scared…"

"Why's that?"

"You know how he can get when he's angry, don't you? The race riots, Valentine's Day Massacre, Civil War, Chicago Fire, Lincoln's death."

"And you witnessed all of that too, haven't you, Indiana?"

"I've seen him when he gets angry. It honestly scares me. I just get so worried about him all the time. Even when he irritates me, I still feel kinda protective… I don't know why."

"Well, I have an idea." Missouri smirked, causing Indiana to flash a nervous glance at Missouri before looking back down. "How's the thing with Kentucky?"

"I've given up."

"Ah. Shame."

"Uh, yeah," Indiana responded, looking away. An awkward pause ensued for a few seconds before Indiana walked away to sit down on a chair down the hall a few steps.

Back in the meeting room, Illinois and New Jersey continue their rigid 'peace talks'.

"So, Illinois, now that you and I are close, I have an idea."

"What is it?"

"How bout dis. You and I, we start it all up again, but allied dis time."

"Start what?" Illinois frowned. New Jersey responded by nodding. "No."

"Why not, man? It worked back then. The economy is struggling. We could become rich!"

Illinois' eyes narrow. "I am not doing that again."

"C'mon, man. It could only help."

"Do you understand what that would do to me?" Illinois asked, voice slightly rising.

"What you mean, man?"

"I have a goddamned reputation I'm trying to throw out. Do you get it, you asshole? I am renowned worldwide as a center of corruption and gangsters. Do you think I like that title? Huh?! Do you?" Illinois asked, voice increasingly rising.

"Nobody would know, Illinois. I mean, like you said, you already have that history. Nobody would be surprised."

"I'm trying to lose that history! I can't go on as America's little thug! You don't understand the toll that has on me." Illinois scowled, standing up.

"C'mon man, cool down. Look at it dis way. Indiana will be attracted to a rich you, ya know."

"DON'T YOU DARE BRING INDIANA INTO THIS YOU LITTLE BASTARD!" Illinois shouted, hitting his fist on the table and giving New Jersey the death stare. He neared the also standing New Jersey, and pulled his fist back, seemingly winding up for a punch.

"ILLINOIS STOP!" a voice screamed from behind the two states.

At that moment, Indiana threw the door open with Missouri behind her causing Illinois to lower his fist in confusion. Missouri ran over to New Jersey and pulled him out of the room as Indiana put her arms around Illinois' body in a tight embrace, in an effort to keep Illinois from hurting anybody. She began crying. Illinois tried breaking free, but that just caused Indiana to hold him tighter.

"Don't hurt anyone, Illinois. Please." Indiana cried.

"But he insulted me! And he brought up you! I won't let anyone use your name for bad!"

"Illinois. Listen to me, please. You have a great personality. You have a world class city, and the best pizza I've ever had. You have great, kind people who truly love and care about most everything. You have a colorful history, one unparalleled. You're the cultural, economic, political, transportation and population hub of the best region in the country. You're the chosen home of my beloved adopted son Abraham, and you have been the best friend a state could hope for. You have a hundred positives for every one negative. Remember that for me, Illinois."

I l-love you…" mumbled Illinois, starting to feel light-headed.

"I… I know…" Indiana responded, holding onto him as hard as she could, crying continuously while leaning her head on his chest. "I think I'm in love with you too," she whispered as Illinois fell unconscious.

TO BE CONTINUED…

STATE BIO # 19

INDIANA

Human Name: Emma Harrison

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Green

Personality Traits: Happy, can be assertive, occasionally bland

Pet: Her horse, Terra

Birthday: December 11th

Original parent: France

Previous bosses: France, Britain

Closest friends: Illinois, Michigan, North Carolina, Ohio

Enemies: Nebraska

Significant accessories: None

Hobbies: Growing corn, wheat and soybeans, racing cars, and working with pharmaceuticals

Favorite Music Genres: Rock, country, jazz

Favorite TV Show: Parks and Recreation

Government Department: Department of Agriculture


End file.
